Questioning Beliefs
by Maqeurious
Summary: Cumberland ahoy!  But it's not just Hawke that's taken an interest in the city.  The players are gathering.  And who's following Hawke?  Chapter 9 is FINALLY here!   F!Hawke/Sebastian paring.
1. Not all as it seems

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver.

* * *

**Not all as it seems...**

The sun was already beginning to sink behind the hills to the west, casting it's soothing red and gold glow across the steadily darkening sky when Rin Casca finally found him. As she stumbled down the winding path cut into the side of the river bank, her little feet threatened to trip her up at every step. She bit her lower lip and chewed, a terrible habit she had developed in her short six years of life whenever she needed to concentrate. Carefully placing one foot in front of the other she exhaled in relief as the worn dirt path turned into even ground and the old wooden bridge that spanned the tributary which snaked through her small village. It was only one of the many waterways that veered of the Minanter River and fed the numerous small hamlets found between the larger cities of Starkhaven and Nevarra.

Rin frowned as she hitched up her dress to inspect the now dirty hem. Running her fingers across the once beautiful lace, she contemplated the day she received it. Her fifth birthday if she wasn't mistaken, and the best present she had ever been given by her mother. Rins tiny brow crinkled, that was the last time she saw her before the Templars came and took her away. And then the circle at Kirkwall was destroyed, and her mother was gone forever.

Before letting herself sink deep into the still fresh wound of being motherless, she shook the memory off and let the dress fall back into place at her ankles and brought the envelope she had concealed in her other hand towards her face to study it. It was certainly a fine looking piece of stationary, with gold gilded edges and a bright red wax seal stamped with an emblem she didn't recognize. How her father knew who it was for, she had no idea. Either way, she hoped whatever message it held was worth the time and trouble it was going to take for her to scrub her garment. It might not be flash or pretty anymore, but it was the only true dress she owned.

Picking up her pace Rin crossed the bridge and headed into the fields, following the narrow paths between rows of wheat and corn until she came up behind him. He had been out here almost the whole day only returning to the house for lunch and a small afternoon snack.

It had been six months since her father found the young man. Lying half dead on the side of the road just outside of Cumberland clutching an empty coin purse and reeking of alcohol. When he brought the vagrant home her father told her that_ 'the Maker has a purpose for us all, even the most downtrodden and seemingly hopeless.' _She remembered being confused and angered by those words. If the Maker had a purpose for everyone, then why did He deem it necessary to take her mother from her?

After sobering and cleaning him up, her father offered the young man a job on the farm in return for the spare room in their small house. But she often wondered about the real reason why he let the stranger stay. Was it pity, or something else all together? Since mothers death, her fathers loneliness wasn't lost on her.

But the stranger, whose name was Lyon she would later find, turned out to be not just an excellent helper around the house and worker on her fathers large farm, but was also very kind. Thus, Rin found herself charmed by Lyon and took a liking to him very quickly. And as the days went by, he became like family.

There was however, only one rule her father asked of her, and that was not to press Lyon about his past. _'When he's ready to talk, he will,'_ he told her one day, _'until then, let's do our best and make him feel welcome.' _But it was hard for her to not pry when she so often caught him with a far off look on his weathered face that seemed so sad, all she wanted to do was fix what ever troubled him.

And that was how she found him now, leaning against his hoe with a melancholy look etched into his features and staring at the dusky sky. Every time she saw those doleful blue eyes, Rins heart broke just a tiny bit more.

"Lyon," she said, hesitant to break the silence, "are you OK?"

Coming out of his daze Lyon jumped at the sudden interruption. Surprised that the child had managed to sneak up on him without knowing, he brushed it aside and shot the girl a smile and warm greeting.

"Ah, Little Rin," he chimed using his nickname for her then kneeling down to meet her face to face, "what in the Makers name are you doing out here by yourself at this hour?"

He ruffled the child's hair and laughed as Rin halfheartedly tried to shake him off, cooing at him to stop. "I know, I know. You're a big girl," he added cheekily.

"Father asked me to fetch you," she told him, only slightly annoyed at her now unkempt hair, "supper is almost ready."

"Fantastic! I'm starving." Raising to his feet Lyon gathered his belongings, packing into his satchel the spare seeds and seedlings from the days work along the wheat belt. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Rin staring intently at him and the trinket dangling freely from his neck.

"You like it huh?" he asked, startling the small girl.

"It's very pretty Lyon. What is it?"

Holding the locket between his fingers, he smiled sadly. "It's... it's nothing important, really."

He let the locket fall back against his chest and tucked it under his shirt. Heaving his satchel over his shoulder he noticed the dejected look on the sweet girls face and sighed. Defeated, Lyon knelt before her again and took the locket out so she could see it properly.

"It's my... good luck charm," he told her as she reached out to touch it.

"A good luck charm? What's that?"

"Well, whenever I feel sad I just hold it in my hand, close my eyes and take a deep breath." He took the locket from her and showed her what he meant. Feeling the warmth of the metal pressed hard against his palm brought a mixture of pain and resentment crashing down around him, something that was getting harder and harder to shake it off these days. "It always helps me feel... peaceful. Like all of the bad things in the world just... melt away – if only for a moment at least."

As he opened his eyes he met the soft brown orbs of his little friend and smiled. He hated lying to her, but it was better then the truth. There was no need to scare a six year old. He couldn't tell her that when he looked at the locket all he could think of was betrayal and loss – and death.

Happy that Rin had excepted his meager explanation, he once again tucked the locket away and stood when he finally noticed the item in Rins hand.

"What have you got there, my dear?"

"Huh? Oh..," she handed the envelope to Lyon and smiled, "father said to give this to you. A messenger dropped it off just now and father says it's for you."

Lyon took the letter and examined it, frowning at the lack of not only a recipient name, but it also had no name of the sender.

"I don't even know how father knows the letter is for you. There's not even a name on it.."

"Yes, I can see.." he said, his voice trailing off. As he turned the envelope over the bright red seal jumped out at him. His blood froze in his veins. He knew that insignia.

"We should get back Lyon, supper should be on the table by now..."

He could hardly hear the words coming from Rin. His attention was solely on the envelope as he tore it open and pulled out the single sheet of paper. His fingers began to shake as he unfolded it. He didn't need to read who it was from. He knew the handwriting well. But he only got a few sentences in when he felt his life take a sudden and sharp turn.

"_I hear you tried searching for me. If it is revenge you desire then I invite you to come and seek it, Sebastian..."_

The prince stopped breathing.

Finally. She had finally revealed herself.

"Hawke..."

**o.O.o**

_Hawke watched in horror as the sky filled with blazing red lights and a thunderous roar so loud she thought the sky itself was being rent in two, as the Chantry exploded before her very eyes. Screaming and crying erupted all around her, but all she could do was stare and hope this was all a dream. A very bad dream._

"_Anders! What.. have you done?" She turned to the mage and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him with fervor. "Anders.. you didn't!"_

"_Elthina NO! Maker NO!" Sebastian screamed beside her, falling to his knees in total disbelief. "She was your most faithful. Your most beloved. Why.. why didn't she listen to me!"_

"_I removed the chance of compromise," Anders tried to explain, "because there can be no compromise."_

_Hawke's grip on him tightened. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Taking his face in her hand, she brought the mages eyes to hers. She had to see them, hoping beyond hope that it was the Spirit that looked back at her. But it wasn't. It was Anders. HER Anders, through and through._

_Knight Commander Meredith stepped forward, her presence ominous and grim. The look on her face gave them nothing but absolute stoic grace. Except for her eyes. Hawke had never seen such intensity. "The grand cleric has been slain by magic, the chantry destroyed. As Knight Commander of Kirkwall, I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment. Every mage in the circle is to be executed – immediately!" _

"_The circle didn't even do this!" Orsino screamed, pushing forward to face Meredith toe to toe "Hawke, please! You can't let her do this! Help us stop this madness!"_

"_And I demand you stand with us, Hawke!" Meredith countered, just as fiery, "Even you must see that this outrage cannot be tolerated!"_

_Sebastian was gripping his bow so tight, Hawke noticed small rivulets of blood trickle through his fingers. "Why are we debating the Right of Annulment when the monster who did this is right here? I swear to you, I will KILL him!" _

_Hawke felt the pressure of their stares on her. Agreeing with one meant disagreeing with another. But no matter who she chose the only inevitability was that more people were going to die. How could she in all good conscience be the one to condemn these people. Who was she to do it, and who were they to ask it of her! _

"_It can't be stopped now," Anders continued, his voice quiet. Passive. "This is how it has to be."_

"_Was that... why you wanted me to distract the grand cleric?" She asked, finally putting the last piece of the puzzle together._

_Sebastian shot an angered glance at the champion and sneered, "Hawke? You were.. part of this?"_

_But she returned the stare, just as steely in a warning to quieten before Anders addressed her again._

"_If you knew what I was doing, you would have felt honor-bound to stop me. I couldn't take that chance. The circle is an injustice, in many places beyond Kirkwall. The world needs to see!"_

"_Anders.. you killed them! How could you? The grand cleric, the mages! The mages you were trying to help! Their blood is on your hands!"_

"_I know.."_

"_And you tricked me, used me to help you do this!"_

"_I know. But it's happened, Marian. You have to choose."_

_Choose? How could she choose between them? All of them? She had spent her entire life protecting an apostate and Maker forbid, even fallen in love with one. But this? This was bigger then she even she could imagine. This was bigger then... love. It had to be._

"_I.. I can't stand with you on this.. Anders. Not now." Her heart sank as the words left her mouth, settling deep into her stomach like a ton of bricks. She took a step back from the mage, the space between them turning into an enormous void there was no coming back from. _

"_Your first act must be to execute this.. traitor!" Sebastian spat, pointing his rage at Anders before the First Enchanter stepped in between them and tugged at Hawke's arm guard._

"_NO! Think carefully Champion, this is not justice!" he begged, his eyes pleading with her._

"_I.. I'm not defending you, Orsino! I can't!"_

"_Are you sure about this?" Merrill interjected, her large eyes a mixture of confusion and doubt, "you know she's going to murder people whose only crime was being born a mage. Think of Bethany! Your own sister!"_

_The mention of her apostate turned Grey Warden sister stirred a deep anger in Hawke. She caught the young elf by the arm and pulled._

"_Don't you dare Merrill!" she screamed, "you have no right to speak to me of such things! I might disagree with the First Enchanter, but I loathe blood mages all the more! Innocent people will be hurt in the fighting. We have to make this as quick and painless as possible." She let Merrill go and watched as the small girl winced and retreated. She couldn't feel sorry for her right now. "I think we all agree that nobody wants mages and templars fighting in the streets! All we can do now is keep casualties to a minimum."_

"_Was it him?" she asked, her attention on Anders again, "did this spirit tell you to do this?"_

_Anders refused to look at her, his gaze fixed on the ground at his feet. "No. When we merged, he ceased to be. We are one now. I can no more ignore the injustice of the circle than he could."_

"_I.. I might have understood if you'd only told me!"_

_Sebastian almost choked on his rage, "Hawke, you condone this! The brutal death of an innocent woman of faith? Someone you knew! Who trusted you!"_

"_No.. I didn't say that Sebastian," she growled, her patience at his continued interruption finally reaching the last straw, "and I swear to the Maker if you don't shut your mouth you'll regret it!"_

"_I wanted to tell you," the mage intervened, "but what if you stopped me? Or worse, what if you wanted to help! I couldn't let you do that! I.. I love you too much to put that on you."_

"_And yet you did anyway, Anders," she countered, "you betrayed my trust."_

"_I know, and that is the only thing I will ever regret." He stepped into her again, careful not to get too close and cupped her cheek. She didn't turn from him, as much as she wanted too. "The world needs to see this Marian. Then we can all stop pretending that the circle is a solution! And if I pay for that with my life.. then I pay. Perhaps then, justice would at least be free."_

_Her hand was on her dagger before she even realized. A sick feeling swirled in her gut and she forced down the bile that threatened to come forth. How many times had she killed? How many people had she sent to the Maker? Hundreds? Tens of hundreds? Too many to count. But how many of those men and women did she care about? Did she love? _

_It wasn't until the mage swept his thumb across her cheek that she realized she was crying. Staring into his eyes, Hawke saw the truth in his words. But it would not be enough. It would never be enough. "Anders.. you.. have forced my hand. I can't let this go, you know that! You.. you have to pay for what you've done."_

_And then when it couldn't get any easier, he made it a lot worse. He smiled, a single tear rolled down his cheek and hung in the stubble of his chin, reminding her of the Anders from 'before'. The Anders she'd spent countless nights with, wrapped in his arms and dreaming of a future that would now never come. The man she'd allowed herself to fall in love with, despite his flaws. And hers._

"_I know," he said softly, bringing her face to his, "and I am willing to let it be. For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you. It was nice to be happy... for a while at least. I just want you to know that when I said I loved you, I meant it with all my heart." Then his mouth found hers in a small intimate kiss that tasted of their mixed tears and sorrow – and loss._

"_I love you too Anders," she whispered against his lips, " and... I'm sorry..."_

_Her knife slid easily into his midsection and he slumped against her, warm blood soaking her hand._

_She held him until the end. Until his chest ceased to move and his cheeks drained of color. And when his eyes finally slid shut, Hawke died with him._

Marian Hawke woke with a start. She was still sitting in the darkest corner of the tavern, with a warm mug of ale that now harbored the floating bodies of several small insects. Her dirty honey blonde hair was matted against the side of her face and thick with tears.

She had drifted off at this table for the past three nights when the room she'd rented upstairs showed very distinct signs of mice – or rats. Not that she could sleep properly anyway. The same old dream that haunted her every night for the past eight months just wouldn't let her be, and sleep passed her by more and more each day. And it showed on her face. Her once vivacious, youthful looks were now sallow and pallid. Eyes that once sparked with life and adventure, were now dark and wan.

Life had been over for her for a long time. But all of that was about to change.

She'd tried for months to end it. Hoping and wishing that someone, somewhere would give her the death that she so longed for. Carrying the burden; the memory, of killing the only thing in her life that held any meaning had become too much. But every time the wire would cut too close and death in all it's sweet repose was within her grasp, something would snap and she'd fight to come back.

But not this time. She'd finally figured out just what it was she was doing wrong. The men and women she gave herself over to were common thugs. They had no reason for death, bar the spare coins in her purse or flesh beneath her clothes. No, they nothing.

Then word reached her about Sebastian settling down in a farming village after giving up his own search for her. Her once trusted ally and friend from a time she'd sooner forget. The words he spoke that fateful day, the anger and need for revenge in his eyes. It was too perfect. She had aided in the death of the grand cleric. Elthina's blood stained her hands just as much as they did Anders's. All she had to do now was wait.

Which turned out to be not long at all. For when Hawke raised her head to pull her cowl lower over her face, the tavern door opened and Sebastian Vael, the exiled prince of Starkhaven walked in and spotted her.


	2. And we come together

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian (mainly)

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own. Her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver.

* * *

**And we come together**

_I hear you tried searching for me. If it is revenge you desire then I invite you to come and seek it, Sebastian. I will be waiting for you at the Horse and Hound Tavern in Chiglas. If it is your wish to see me dead for aiding in the death of the grand cleric, then it's only fair my death is at your hands. I will wait here for as long as it takes._

_Hawke._

"So, you're leaving?" Madoc Casca asked as he stacked away the supper dishes. "I've been wondering when this day would come. Are you sure this is what you really want to do?"

Sebastian sat back in his chair and sighed. The letter from Hawke lay flat on the table in front of him, worn and crinkled from his obsessive reading. "She's inviting me Madoc, what should I do if not oblige?"

The old man frowned, "And you say that with such a smile," he said, "why, I wonder?"

Sebastian slowly shook his head, "It's what she wants. You read it for yourself."

"Aye I did son, but is revenge what you really want? What does it ever bring us but more pain?" His hand fell on the princes shoulder and squeezed. "Revenge isn't the answer here."

"You sound like someone I used to know," Sebastian said sadly, remembering the very same words of the grand cleric. "but I can't let this go, not when it's staring me in the face."

"This is not what the Maker..."

"Don't Madoc," Sebastian interrupted him firmly, "what the Maker does or does not have in store for me is not the issue here."

"Your lack of faith is troubling Sebastian," Madoc continued, "but I know you'll do the right thing in the end. You might have left the Makers side, but He has not left yours."

Sebastian groaned, a perfect mix of shame and anger, "Sometimes I wonder old man, why I told you about any of this in the first place."

"I think we both know the answer to that. I believe we came together for this very reason. You needed someone to talk to and I...well..." he paused a moment, tapping his fingers on his chin pondering his answer. "Well, I needed someone to help on the farm."

Sebastian caught Madoc's eye and smiled. "Work that one all out yourself, did you? It's such a compelling argument."

Madoc laughed. His deep set eyes crinkled in the corners. Sebastian tilted his head and took in the image of the old man. Despite what he called him, he couldn't be more then ten years older than himself; but the years of tough manual labor had taken their toll. It also went without saying that since the death of his wife at the Kirkwall circle, being a single father had become his life. Which was a shame, Sebastian often thought, for despite his weathered face he was a rather handsome man. Finding another woman wouldn't be too much of a problem for him, he already had many admirers around the village. Against his better judgment, he just had to ask. "Tell me Madoc, will you ever wed again?"

He seemed to contemplate the question longer then Sebastian thought he would. "Sometimes I wonder if the Maker will bless me with love again. But no one will ever be like Lynn. She was my soulmate and the love of my life."

Sebastian nodded, regretting that he'd never meet the woman. "You believe in such things Madoc, even when the Maker saw fit to take her from you in the first place?"

"Aye I do," he answered without hesitation. "And what of you Sebastian? Do you believe in love?"

"Falling in love is not something I am looking for, my friend. There is no room for such an emotion when I am full to the brim of quite the opposite."

Madoc's eyes softened and he took the seat beside Sebastian, covering the young mans hand with his own. "I don't believe that for a moment Prince," he said cautiously, using the title Sebastian held with slight distaste, "the Maker allows us all the chance to love. You just haven't found it yet. But you will."

"I find_ that_ very hard to believe Madoc, but thank you all the same." Sebastian shifted in his chair, a tad uncomfortable at the direction their conversation had taken. It wasn't a topic he was interested in, and certainly wasn't looking to be.

"So you're really going then? I can't say anything to change your mind?"

Picking up the letter, Sebastian read it again. "I have to Madoc. I appreciate your concern. What I'm worried about though are the two of you. Will you be all right?"

Smiling at his friend, Madoc turned his head towards the door at the end of the room where Rin lay sleeping. "She's going to miss you, you know."

Sebastian winced. He loved the little girl like she was his own and leaving her was going to be harder then he let on. "But is she going to be _all right_? The both of you?"

The meaning behind his words didn't go unnoticed. "If you mean her magic, then yes. We're going to be fine. Her abilities are only latent for the time being. Besides, it won't be the first time I've had to harbor an apostate. I think the templars have more important things to worry about then hunting down a scared six year old girl."

Sebastian knew the truth of it. With all the troubles between the templars and the circles around Thedas, he wouldn't be surprised if Rin went unnoticed for years.

"If I can't change your mind then I have something you might need." Leaving the kitchen area he entered the room he shared with Rin. Sebastian could hear him rummaging around and the sounds of furniture scraping along the floor before Madoc's exasperated cheer told him he'd found what he was looking for.

"When we stumbled upon you," he said excitedly, closing his daughters bedroom door quietly as not to disturb her more, "you had this strapped to your back."

Sebastian's eyes widened as Madoc handed him a very familiar looking bow. "I thought I'd lost it!" he said in disbelief, relishing the feel and weight of the bow in his hands. "It was my grandfathers."

Madoc smiled at Sebastian's reaction to the item, watching a sparkle in his eye give life to the young boy that he hadn't seen in all his time he'd been there.

"Listen Sebastian, I know I can't say anything to change your mind, but know that you'll always have a place to come to if you do."

"Thank you Madoc," Sebastian said softly, "for everything you have done for me in these past months." He took the old man by the shoulders and pulled him in for a hug, slapping him hardily on the back, "I'll never forget the kindness you've shown me my friend."

"Nonsense son," he replied warmly, "it was the least I could do." He brought Sebastian around to face him, "I'll entrust your soul to the Maker young prince, that he will guide you. Even if you don't want Him to. All I ask is that when you see this woman, before you do anything just take a long deep breath and listen to your heart."

**o.O.o**

"Think fast, Valeman. I only have one more hand to play and all that coin comes to a cosy new home." Isabella tapped her chest with her cards seductively, watching as the brutish merchant opposite her leered, his bulbous eyes fixed firmly on her plunging cleavage. She couldn't believe how easy it was to dupe the poor sap. A little flash here, a slight dip of the corset there and he was putty in her hands. If he'd focused at all during their game, he would have noticed the cards she had stashed under the table or in the lining of her boot.

The pile of sovereigns on the table were just a farce though, in the grander scheme of things. What she really wanted was information. And since information gathering was her forte, she was exactly where she needed to be. It had taken all of her feminine wiles to get where she was right now though, and that was saying something. The traveling merchant she now played against had proved to be a difficult man to find. And even when she finally did track him down, getting him to agree to a card game came with it's own rather regrettable price. Not that she was going to honor that price of course. She wasn't a whore, regardless of what people thought. Though, she couldn't deny the time she spent extracting information from the local beauties at the brothel; a place that made The Blooming Rose look like a chantry prayer house, was more fun than she cared to admit. "Make your move, merchant. I need new stockings and Winry's apparel shop closes in an hour."

"Hold your tongue woman!" the merchant growled, his knotted beard swaying as he spoke. Tearing his gaze from Isabella's chest he studied his cards. He knew he was done for. Hell, he didn't even know what he was playing. And now the table was full of his coin and he was about to lose it all.

"Your eye is twitching." Isabella teased, noticing the rise of fury in the mans neck and face as he flushed a deep crimson color. Under his beard his jaw clenched so hard, she could swear she heard him grinding his teeth.

"You know woman," Valeman said, his focus switching between her and a space behind her, "you wouldn't be cheating me now, would you?" He threw down his last card and sneered.

Out of the corner of her eye Isabella saw movement on both sides. She smirked quietly to herself. Men never ceased to amaze and amuse her.

"If you'd just told me what I wanted to know, we wouldn't be in this situation, and you wouldn't be broke." She laid her own card on top of his and grinned. Just like that, she'd won the game. "But I am willing to negotiate Valeman," her smug tone clearly hitting a nerve. She pawed the coin, gathering it into a nice little bundle before sliding it towards her end of the table, ignoring the fiery anger emanating from her opponent.

Without warning the lumbering merchant jumped to his feet and with speed slammed his fist down on the pile of coins, sending pieces of silver and bits clattering to the floor.

"You're a liar and a cheat!" he yelled, spittle forming in the corners of his mouth, "and I will no more let you have my coin than let you walk out of here still on your whoring feet! BOYS!"

With the snap of his fingers the heavies at her back advanced on her with as much speed as a lumbering pair of giants could. By the time they'd reached her though, Isabella was already on the move. Kicking herself clear of the table and sliding on her stool backwards between the two henchmen, she drew her twin daggers in the process and slashed each in their thigh as she passed by them. A second later Valeman stood solidly before her, brandishing his sword and with one giant swing brought it down towards her, cursing as he watched her effortlessly propel herself off the stool and side step his weapon.

"You wench! Tryna make a fool outta me!" He swung his sword again without regard for his own men that stood in his way. He didn't even seem to notice as he sliced through them, blood and innards splashing on the ground in a pile that made Isabella involuntary retch. His urgency to plunge his blade between her eyes was almost psychotic.

But he was slow, something that she was definitely not, and forcing down the taste of vomit in her mouth, she stepped towards him. Seeing an opening she ducked under another swing and rolled towards him, bringing her foot up and and kicking him square in the groin. He cried out loudly and almost dropped his sword as he cupped himself to ride out the pain. That was all she needed. Spinning on her heels she dragged her dagger down the length of his arm, drawing a torrent of blood as she precisely severed numerous tendons that gave his sword arm strength. He fell to his knees, his heavy sword finally clanging to the floor; in a blubbering mess. Isabella took the chance to kick away his weapon and slid behind him, bringing her dagger up and under his chin.

"So," she said, barely out of breath, "are you willing to talk to me now?" She pressed the cold steel harder against his adams apple.

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

"If need be merchant. You mean no more to me than the men you cut down." She tipped her head towards the dead bodies of his men. "When word gets out this was your doing, no one will want to deal with you again."

To this revelation Valeman groaned, keeping his head as still as possible to save cutting his own throat. "Fine wench," he said with such contempt, "what do you want to know!"

"The amulet Valeman," she spat, finally over this whole facade, "where is it? Who did you sell it to?"

Valeman tried to laugh and Isabella pressed the dagger harder against him, nicking the skin and drawing blood as a warning.

"R..Redcliffe!" he managed to squeeze out, "I sold it to a man who was on his way to Redcliffe!"

"A name!" she demanded, and just for fun pressed her knee into the middle of his back, adding insult to injury.

"T..Tobias! That's all I know! I swear!"

Isabella pondered his answer for a moment before letting him loose. "If I find you're lying about this merchant, I'll be back for you. And it won't be your throat I'll cut." She grabbed his crotch and squeezed, not letting go until she was sure he understood her message. When she was, she threw him forward into a crumpled and bloody mess.

On her way out she stopped briefly to look back at him groaning and huddled in a ball on the floor. She pocketed a few of the free sovereigns for the trouble before heading back to the tavern. Hawke would want to hear about this.

**o.O.o**

Chiglas was a three day ride by horse from Madoc's farm. The old man insisted Sebastian take his finest chocolate colored mare, a horse Rin affectionately named 'Pudding', a backpack full of supplies and a small pouch of coin before letting him go.

As he expected, saying his goodbyes to the sweet little girl was heart wrenching. Her big brown eyes welled at the news and for the entire morning he readied himself, Rin refused to let him out of her sight. It wasn't until he took the child on his knee and - by her command - promised to return one day, did she let up. But as soon as he attempted to mount the horse, she broke down and cried openly for very first time; throwing herself against his legs and refusing to let him go.

"Little Rin," he cooed, picking up the sobbing child and wrapping his arms around her, "you have to be strong." His voice wavered as he spoke, the words thick and hard to say. Having Rins tiny frame in his arms with her legs wrapped around his torso tightly, made the lump in Sebastian's throat burn. He'd managed to keep his emotions at bay all morning, until now. "Be a good girl for your father, you hear." Giving her a kiss on her brow, he pried her tiny hands from his neck and lowered her back on the ground; watching with a heavy heart as she ran to Madoc and buried her face in his lap, sobbing loudly.

But all of that was behind him now. He had to look forward. Focus on the task at hand.

By late afternoon on the third day he'd reached the outskirts of Chiglas. The last time he'd passed through the settlement was four years ago on his annual visit to the Nevarra City chantry. Nestled in the valley between two large mountain ranges, Chiglas was almost split down the middle by the Vanora River, one of the larger tributaries that forked off the Minanter. It also served as a port of sorts for small fishing boats and the drag netters who used the bay for their livelihood. The sight of the sprawling farmlands and garden patches dotting the countryside that bordered the village was a much welcome sight and in many ways reminded Sebastian of one of his many trips into Ferelden. As much as he had enjoyed the trek and wonderful scenery the Free Marches had to offer, as soon as he saw the first signs of civilization, all he could think of now was a proper bed and long awaited hot bath. Leading his mare down the mountain path, the heart of the village finally came into view and squeezing with his legs slightly he set Pudding into a canter.

As tired as he was, he wanted to reach the tavern quickly and face Hawke. With any luck there would be a spare room for rent and bath to occupy as a side note. He'd been to the Horse and Hound many times in his younger days before devoting himself to the chantry, so finding the building wasn't going to be a problem. But the closer he got, the more Madoc's words haunted him.

Just what was he going to do when he saw Hawke anyway? Pull his bow and end it right then and there? Ask her for reasons as to why she did what she did? Or an explanation as to where she disappeared to after the fight with the possessed Knight Commander, Meredith? Or the one question that plagued him the most; why did she allow Anders to kill Elthina?

His heart sank at the memory of the chantry and what had happened that day. The feelings of loss and betrayal. He trusted Hawke. He trusted Anders! And they'd both let him down. At least the mage was dead, that brought him some comfort. At least, that's what he allowed himself to believe anyway.

When the Horse and Hound came into view Sebastian halted the mare and dismounted, tying her up on the railing outside. He gave her a quick scratch on the neck before ascending the steps and heaving open the door. The strong smell of beer and smokey sting of tobacco hung heavily in the bar, hitting Sebastian in the face on it's way out the door in search of fresh air. The tavern hadn't changed at all since his last visit. There were a few people scattered about, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and smooth dulcet tones of the lute that came drifting down from a table on the second story. He scanned the faces, not recognizing any of them, until his attention was caught by a hooded figure in the deepest recess of the tavern who sported an amazing set of green eyes. They locked gazes for what seemed like minutes.

Several thoughts went through Sebastian's head. A volley of questions, emotions and a stirring that he couldn't quite understand. But out of everything he was thinking, one thought pushed forcefully to the front, blocking out everything else and caused him quite a concern.

It was Hawke. There was no doubt. He was finally standing within reach of her. So why wasn't he feeling the hatred and lust for blood he thought... and hoped... he would?


	3. Face to Face

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian (mainly)

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared.  
Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian.  
But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had.  
Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver. _

Hawke and Sebastian finally meet face to face, with interesting results.

To those that have read my little fic, thanks very much. It makes me so happy knowing someone else is enjoying it as much as me

Reviews muchly appreciated.

* * *

**Face to Face**

Hair the color of rubies and eyes as blue as the Waking Sea was all Hawke saw when the door of the tavern opened and Sebastian crossed the threshold. For a moment she was caught off guard, mesmerized by his appearance. He still looked the same after all these months, apart from the slight tan she could only put down to his days working out in the harsh Thedas sun. Which, if she was being completely honest with herself did him more good that anything. His new golden glow made his features stand out in stark contrast.

Then her body suddenly went rigid, and absentmindedly a hand went to the dagger at her hip. If it was going to get ugly, she might as well give him a good fight. Under the table a wet nose nuzzled against her thigh, trying as only a faithful mabari could to calm her down, least she loose all composure. With a watchful eye she followed Sebastian as he made his way towards her, clearly wary and if she wasn't mistaken; concealing a knife of his own under his belt.

Her eyes flew upwards and for a moment they stared one another down, each daring the other to make the first move. It was minutes before Sebastian tired of the standoff and found his tongue first.

"Marian Hawke, as I live and breath. You're the last person I expected to hear from after all this time. We didn't exactly part ways on the friendliest of terms." He stared at her a moment, his face cast in a steely countenance, "Are you sure this is what you really want?"

Hawkes fingers relaxed on the hilt of her dagger as she considered his words. His stance eased a little and without an invitation he pulled on the chair opposite her and made himself comfortable.

At her feet, Merc fidgeted. She could hear the hounds snuffling and inquisitive snorts as he investigated the new comer, giving Sebastian a jolt in the process.

"Hey boy," he greeted the scraggy dog with a smile and scratched him behind the ear, "it's been a while." Arching her brow, Hawke was dumbfounded when Merc took to the rogue like an old friend; yipping and cavorting at his pandering like a puppy in play. She rolled her eyes. _Loyalty? Right... _Fed up with the scene, she nudged Merc in the hindquarters with her boot and he came lumbering back to her side; eyes cast down and muttering under his breath. "He looks good," Sebastian said meekly, his eyes glazing over as he watched the mabari curl up beside Hawke and bury his muzzle under his large paws. The comment earned him another eye roll and impatient sigh. _Great_, Hawke thought sarcastically – _this isn't awkward at all._

"Forget the dog Vael, he's not why you're here." The quip in her voice brought Sebastian's gaze back towards her. Separated only by mere feet she had the chance to properly study him, and was surprised by what she saw. He looked... tired. Not from travel, but from something else. Though his eyes still blazed their icy blue, they were also dark and... well, sombre. She knew the look all too well. The look of defeat. She saw it every time she gazed at herself in the mirror. And in return, he seemed to be studying her just as much. Sizing her up. Comparing himself against her, maybe? Hawke didn't care, she knew she looked like crap. But she didn't need it spoken out loud.

Careful with his words, he asked. "How did you find me?"

"I still have some friends," she replied, "and favors owed to me. Finding you was just a matter of time and coin. I thought you'd be happy about that. I heard you tried searching for me yourself, without success."

"Indeed." His fingers tangled around themselves, clearly out of nervousness. "After you disappeared from Kirkwall I went on a... hunt for you. Things didn't work out as well as I'd hoped though." He snorted a laugh, remembering the debacle his time in Cumberland had been. Robbed, beaten and left for dead. Until Madoc, of course. "But I never thought of giving up. I still wanted to find you one day. I still wanted to face you. Things just got waylaid a little." Then his face met hers and his mood darkened. "And here I am, as ordered. Funny how some things never change."

Hawke remained passive under his glare, "I didn't order you Sebastian. I merely gave you an opportunity. What you chose to do with it was your decision, and yours alone."

"But you knew I'd come though, didn't you?"

She allowed herself a smug grin, "I was counting on it."

And then he asked her something she wasn't ready for. "Why? Is dying that important to you?"

She shifted in her seat slightly baffled. He wasn't supposed to ask why or how. He wasn't supposed to question it. He was supposed to agree and just do it. "Begging for death isn't like you. It wasn't too long ago you fought for quite the opposite."

There was nothing for it. If he was having second thoughts about this, then she'd have to remedy that. "I beg for nothing, I never have. I thought I'd do the right thing by you, for once. It was my fault Sebastian, you made that abundantly clear and I am not denying the fact." She noticed the prince stiffen at the mention of what had happened then. He couldn't hide from her his clenched jaw and fists that were clamped so tightly, his knuckles turned an opaque white. "Anders and I killed Elthina."

When the grand clerics name left her lips, Sebastian broke. With surprising speed he reached out for her, claiming her small neck with his bare hand and squeezed. Hawke never let her gaze falter, staring into his now ferocious eyes. She didn't fight back, but allowed him total control. Through clenched teeth, Sebastian hissed. "You say such a thing like it was the most easiest deed in the world." His grip tightened. She could feel his thumb pressing into the dip of her throat with such a force he'd snap her neck before he managed to strangle the last breath from her. He bent forward a bit more, his face as close to hers as it had ever been and whispered in her ear, "You were wrong to kill her Hawke. And you will pay for that."

Merc was suddenly wide awake and on his feet beside them with his lips pulled back and baring a nasty set of sharp teeth. He was crouched on his haunches and ready to strike at Hawkes command, snarling and frothing at the mouth. Sebastian gave him a sidewards glace then withdrew his hand, casting Hawke aside angrily and sat back in his seat. She coughed and spluttered as the rush of oxygen came flooding back. There would definitely be bruises after that little stunt.

Gathering his composure, Sebastian immediately choked on a new emotion, regret. Across from him Hawke fought to breathe, her face flushed and covered in a light sheen of perspiration. Anger had overcome him and without warning he'd lashed out and almost killed her on the spot. Around her neck he noted the faint beginnings of purplish marks, almost a perfect imprint of his own hand. Suddenly he felt sick to the stomach.

Merc continued to eye him up. Deep, low growls thundering in his chest. Hot stringy saliva dripped from his maw and pooled at his feet as he slowly crept closer, waiting patiently for his command. Sebastian wanted to reach out to her again to see if she was alright, but fearing the hound would attack regardless of orders, he thought better of it.

Raking a shaken hand through his hair, he tripped over a flurry of words. "Hawke! I'm... I'm sorry... I didn't mean... This wasn't how.. I …. wanted.." She brushed off his ramblings with a wave of her hand as she rubbed her throat with the other. Once again, as if nothing had happened, she met him eye to eye; defiance written all over her face.

Before addressing him she flung a command to Merc, ordering him to heel and waited until he was once more curled at her feet. Though he relaxed a little, she noticed he kept his wits about him and eyes fixed firmly on Sebastian, should he be needed again.

"Despite what you might think, saying what I did breaks my heart more then you will ever know. Don't ever presume to know what I'm thinking or feeling like you have an inkling of just who it is I am. I speak only the truth Sebastian, no matter how awful it might be. I told you I take full responsibility for it and I will allow you the vengeance you so desperately want. You shouldn't have let me go. You should have ended it right then and there." Her throat ached all the more after the little speech, her voice barely audible come the end. Sebastian sat there in his chair looking like a reprimanded child as he listened to her rant. This wasn't who he was. _THAT_ wasn't who he was. But then, why did he come here at all if not to do this very thing?

Before he could answer however, a large bottle of liquor slammed down on the table between them, followed by three barely clean mugs. "Quite a show Sebastian, I never knew you had it in you." Isabella was suddenly there, plopping herself down in the seat beside him and uncorking the top of the the bottle. He was surprised to see her after all this time, but then quickly thought otherwise. After everything Hawke had done and sacrificed for the rivainian beauty, he'd be surprised if she _wasn't_ at Hawke's side.

"What? No 'hello'? No 'Hey Isabella, how's life treating you?' Have your manners left you along side your sanity?"

"Let it be Isabella," Hawke chided, "and don't interfere. Sebastian and I have unfinished business." To which Isabella laughed and poured the brew into the mugs; handing them one each.

"But I have such good news Hawke. Your death wish will have to wait."

Hawkes focus shifted from Sebastian and she shot the girl a curious look, her brow arched high, "What do you mean?"

Isabella tipped the mug - of what smelled distinctly like whiskey – up and consumed it's contents in one gulp, slamming it back down on the table and pouring another. "We have to leave," she said licking her lips, "we're going to Redcliffe."

"What? Why?"

"You know why Hawke," she said, downing the second mug and flashing her a smile, "I finally found a solid lead and that's where it's pointed us." And as a side note, she threw in, "If you're not going to touch your bloody drinks then give them back!"

Hawke allowed hers to be taken, but to her surprise Sebastian didn't. Instead, he took the mug and and emptied it in one swallow. The smile on Isabella's face couldn't have been wider.

"Well, well.. this _IS_ a surprise! I see the rumor is true then. You walk with the Maker no more? Alas, poor Sebastian is just another one of us... normal folk!" She refilled his drink, clinked mugs and downed her third bout, not noticing Sebastian had a slight look of disgust on his face and pushed the drink away.

"I might be fighting with my faith at the moment, but that doesn't mean I'm racing head long into Sin to make up for all I've apparently missed. I still have some morals."

His last statement made Isabella roar with laughter. "Oh yes. I'm so sure. Morals, prince? And was I not just witnessing said morals a few minutes ago when you so righteously tried to throttle the life from Hawke?"

The barb stung, and Sebastian looked away abashed. "I didn't mean to do that," was all he could say in defense.

"Uh huh, well, regardless – your little rivalry will have to wait as I said. We're going to Redcliffe. Now."

"What?" The shock in Hawkes voice surprised them both and in unison they turned towards her with questioning looks. "We can't just up and leave! I think this is more important. I'm not having this same argument with you!"

"Oh BULLSHIT!" Isabella snapped, her tone now hard and demanding, "I busted my ass tracking Valeman down Hawke, in more ways then one, so you could find it and have your 'oh-so-glorious' death! A little gratitude wouldn't go astray! For months I've tried talking you out of this all together but I know how damned stubborn you are! This compromise was the best I could do to forestall it. After everything you've done for me, would it be too fucking much to allow me to do this one goddamned thing for you in return before you up and die on me!"

Her outburst, like all the others; struck a cord of sympathy in Hawke and shame descended on her like a ton of bricks. She hated to admit it, but Isabella had put herself in a difficult position – on purpose. Yes, Hawke was ungrateful, selfish and self destructive. It was Isabella who held her together. After all these months, she'd not only come to rely on it; but expect it. Every time Hawke would fall to the demons in her head, Isabella would be there to hold her hand. Every time she'd given herself over to the end, Isabella would be there to pull her back – and give her a right good kicking in the rump while she did so.

Between Isabella's rampant fit and Hawkes now quiet contemplation, Sebastian sat awfully confused. Not sure who he should direct the question at, he let it hang between them all. "What's in Redcliffe? What did you find?"

"That's not your concern." Hawke finally answered, feeling tired all of a sudden. She turned to Isabella, who was staring at the bottom of her empty mug; still fuming. "Look Sebastian," she said, resigning herself to the rivainian, "my offer still stands. I'll face you one on one, in armed battle but... I have to go to Redcliffe first. There's something I have to take care of before our debt is settled. I know I'm not in any position to ask, but I need this one favor. Can you wait?"

And then when things couldn't get any more shocking, Isabella lifted her gaze from the table and placed her hand on his arm, "Please Sebastian, you have to let me do this."

His jaw almost hit the table at the intensity in her eyes and sincerity in her voice. It only made him more curious as to what this was all about. He slowly nodded his head, relenting. "If it means that much to you then, OK. I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer I suppose."

A smile crept across her face, and in true Isabella fashion she took the bottle of whiskey in her hand, saluted a stunned Sebastian and took a long hard pull of the acrid liquid. "To REDCLIFFE!" she exclaimed, smacking her lips against the bitter taste.

Hawke could do naught but shake her head and smile inwardly. Isabella had a knack for making her feel two feet tall, and now she'd managed to swindle Sebastian into feeling the same. Sometimes she wondered if it wasn't all just a well executed ploy to get her way. It was annoying. It worked every time.

"We'll go in the morning," Hawke said as she stifled a yawn before turning to the prince, "if you want you can take my room upstairs. I'm not using it and I'm sure you're tired. It's paid up until the end of the month, so you can use it while we're away. We should only be a few weeks at least."

Sebastian looked at her bewildered, "You're kidding right? I'm not staying here while you two go gallivanting across the Marches without me. I'm coming."

Hawkes eyes flew wide open, "What? I don't bloody well think so!" came her indignant reply, her voice raising a few octaves in the process, "this has nothing to do with you!"

Her reaction made him grin. Until their battle he was quite content to be a thorn in her side if nothing else.

"Oh come on," Isabella chimed, "let him come. We could use the extra pair of hands if things get... complicated."

Hawke remained stoic, "NO! I don't want him there."

"Too bad," Sebastian said, almost too enthusiastic, "I'm coming and that's that. Either I travel with you or behind you. Or, you can just stay here and we can be done this?"

Hawke had to bite her tongue. The icy glare she received from Isabella cut straight through her. How many more times today was she to be made the fool? "Fine, whatever!" she said, her tone scathing.

Rather pleased with himself, Sebastian made a move to leave, stopping only to demand the keys and directions to the room Hawke occupied before heading outside to tend to his horse. Waiting until he was out of earshot, Hawke turned to her friend and pouted. "This is a mistake. He shouldn't come with us. He won't understand... why.. I want this."

"He doesn't have to. I'm doing this for you, not him. You made me a promise that I could, don't take that away from me. It's the only thing I can do for you now."

Hawkes expression softened, utterly defeated. Frustrated, all she could do was sigh. "I just hope you know what you're doing Isabella."

"Don't I always?" she replied, a cheeky smirk on her face.

Hawke shook her head. That didn't make her feel anymore sure about this at all.

**o.O.o**

The room Hawke had rented was at the back of the building on the second floor, far from the noise of the tavern. And it was big. She'd neglected to tell him that it was more a suite then a small box with walls like he was used to. Not that it was grand in design. It wasn't steeped in rich tapestries, gilded furniture or fancy embellishments. It was simple. Clean. Well, apart from the various vermin traps that were dotted around the place. More importantly though, it housed the two most crucial things he needed right now. A big bed with soft fluffy blankets, and in a separate part of the room hidden behind a screen, a tub filled to the brim with steaming hot water. Opposite the tub was a large open fire place, still roaring with life, that was used to boil the pots of water it took to fill it. He wondered if the room came complete with a personal maid.

Unable to wait any longer he began stripping out of his clothes, and one foot at a time immersed himself until the water came up to his chin. Instantly his body relaxed not realizing until now just how achy and tired his bones felt. He let himself sink further under the water until it covered it head, relishing in the heat and silence a moment, before poking his head back up and leaning against the rim. Taking a deep breath his mind began to drift. His thoughts went back to the small village of Cadfer. He wondered what Madoc and Rin were doing right now. He missed them both, especially Little Rin. It seemed he would be taking longer to get back to her then he first thought. He made a mental note to pick up a special gift for her to soften the blow she was bound to give him.

Things had definitely taken a sudden turn. One moment he was hell bent on facing down Hawke, the next he was about to help her track down something in Ferelden. How had it come to this?

Hawke.

She'd certainly changed in the last few months. This once fierce warrior who had destroyed the Flint Company cartel and helped him face the woman responsible for his own families betrayal, was now nothing more then a shadow of her formal self. She even looked different. Before, she was like a blazing sun; bright and powerful. Back then, her beauty didn't go unnoticed to his eyes. He'd always thought as such, much to his chagrin. Not that he would dare act on any thoughts he might have had, he remembered spending more then one time in confession because of such things. But now, although her beauty was still there, it was buried deep beneath a facade of stone and lack of any true emotion. She looked... dead.

Again, he wondered about Redcliffe and why she was so adamant he not no what it was they were looking for. Was it dangerous? Illegal? And why did Isabella seem so desperate to go? What was it that Hawke promised her? So many questions. He would find out eventually he supposed, but he was never one for surprises.

His thoughts wondered again, darting in and out of possible answers, dreams and realities until the relaxation became too much and he drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

By the time he awoke the bath water had become tepid, and fearing he would catch a chill he stood and reached for the towel hanging by the fire. He was barely covered when from behind the screen he heard a low whistle and laughter. "Oh my, you don't see that everyday!"

With a start, Sebastian lost his footing and slipped; almost hitting his head against the fireplace mantle. Anger flashed in his chest as he wrapped the towel around his waist and yelled, "Isabella! What do you think you're doing in here?"

A flurry of laughter erupted. Isabella held out her arm, brandishing the bottle of whiskey from earlier. "One drink prince, that's all I ask."

"Woman, now is not the time! How did you even get in here?" He was sure he'd locked the door when he entered.

"Come on Sebastian, don't be shy. I promise I didn't see anything" then added with a quip, "well, nothing I haven't seen before anyway."

Heat spread through Sebastian's face, he was never going to live this down. "Get out Isabella, you're clearly drunk and I won't have you here in such a state."

His words only brought more torrid laughter, but counted himself lucky she stayed on the opposite side of the screen while he quickly started to dress.

"Seriously Sebastian, one drink."

"I said, no!" he groaned, wrestling with his pants, "go back to your room, Hawke will be wondering where you are."

Her laughter subsided immediately, and for a moment he thought she really did leave.

"She's still downstairs," she said quietly, "she's probably asleep at the table again. Silly girl."

The change in her demeanor piqued his interest, "What do you mean? She's not sharing with you?"

"No, she's pretty much planted to that seat down there. I wouldn't be surprised if she's started to sprout roots." She laughed, a short dry snort that made Sebastian frown.

"What is going on here Isabella? I get the distinct feeling that you're not telling me something. What's in Redcliffe? Why is it so important to you? And her?"

She was quiet for a long while before answering, "She'll kill me if I tell you Sebastian. She doesn't think you'll understand. I don't blame her of course, you're not the most sensitive when it comes to this particular subject."

He didn't know whether to be insulted by the remark, or not. "Well tell me and we'll see."

"I can't do that, not yet." She sounded so sad, so wounded; that Sebastian thought she was going to cry. "The reason I came here was to say thank you for holding off so we can take care of this. It means a lot to me, and to Hawke. She won't admit it, but it does. I know it can't be easy for you to be around her right now after everything that happened. But I suppose you'll have your wish come true in the end, right?"

He didn't know what to say. Pulling his shirt on over his head, he stepped out from behind the screen and found Isabella now leaning against the front door. She looked terrible. Tired. Drunk.

"Why are you here Isabella? Really."

Her brown eyes never left the floor as she spoke, "Have you ever killed someone you loved with all your heart because you thought it was the right thing to do? Only to have everyone who demanded it of you, turn on you in the end?"

Sebastian remained silent, what could he say? This was about Hawke obviously. Since when did this rambunctious pirate ever take anything like this so seriously? And he thought Hawke had changed.

Lifting her gaze she met his eyes, "I really wish you would reconsider this duel, Sebastian. Hawke has already paid dearly for what she did and continues to do so to this very day. Don't sit in judgment of her when she sits in judgment of herself more harshly then even you could. She's punished herself every day since then, and will continue to do so until you end it for her. There is no honor in killing someone who is already dead in so many ways."

She left him then, standing in a daze to digest what she'd said. For the second time today he felt like he'd been reprimanded, and that made him feel sick to his stomach all over again.


	4. Give me mercy

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver.

_Things take a strange turn, leading Sebastian and Hawke into a desperate situation._

* * *

**Give me mercy**

"HOW MUCH? Did the Maker Himself descend to sire the beast?" Isabela kicked her heel against the stable door and frowned. All she wanted was a bloody horse capable of carrying them to the coast, but that was proving more difficult then she first imagined. To be completely honest though, she'd rather walk. Her glorious ass belonged on a boat, not on the back of a smelly equine.

"It's like I said lady, he's all I got and you won't find another for sale in Chiglas." The bastard made a good point, but he didn't have to be so damned smug about it! She'd already searched the rest of the village for stockbreeders, but with so many traveling or escaping lately, horses were in high demand - but low supply.

"But ten sovereigns? That's preposterous!"

"He ain't a bleedin' farm horse missy," the salesman snapped, "he's a pure stallion. He's had endurance training and used to serve in the city guard in Nevarra. He's tough and worth every single coin. Take it or leave it!"

Behind them, Sebastian was pacing, watching with mild interest. Isabela was off on another tirade disputing the price. The horse was of good stock, but even he thought ten sovereigns was pretty steep.

A tiresome yawn overcame him. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning in his bed, the pirates words echoing in his mind. Did he really seem that desperate to kill Hawke? Was he that willing? Looking around for her, he spied Hawke sitting on the steps of the local chantry mussing the mabaris shaggy fur. She still looked half dead from lack of sleep and he wondered if she really did stay in the tavern after all. At least she looked like she'd had a chance to bathe. Her dirty blonde hair now shone with life, the bulk of which was pulled back into a loose ponytail while fly away strands framed her heart shaped face. Every now and then Merc would pounce around her and she'd smile, her emerald eyes coming alive if only for a second. Her smile was still the same, he realized. It still inspired hope in him where he thought there was none. But, according to Isabela, she hardly ever smiled these days. It was a shame. She was beautiful when she did.

"Full pouting lips. Green come-hither eyes. Slim swaying hips-" Sebastian shoved his hand over Isabela's mouth, muffling the remains of her sentence. He narrowed his eyes at her. How this woman seemed to get the jump on him every time frustrated him.

"Are you quite done?" he asked, unamused.

Isabela's eyes flashed and he felt a smile creep over her lips. She nodded. Sebastian removed his hand, against his better judgment.

"Oh come on, I'm just teasing." She thumbed to the steed behind her. "The bastard was tough but I managed to knock him down to seven sovereigns. Ten Sovereigns.. I swear!"

Up close, the horse was magnificent. It's coat was a deep black/blue that shimmered when he walked. He made Pudding look like a nag in comparison. "So all we have to do now is decide our route."

"We'll go south to Cumberland." Hawke suddenly appeared beside them, straightening the various buckles on her leather cuirass. "But we might come into some trouble. Word has it that tevinter magicars have been seen there, and with the troubles between the circles and the templars, well..." she shrugged and looked away.

He could guess what she was about to say. In the smaller villages it was easier for her to remain anonymous. But in a big city like Cumberland she'd easily be recognized as not just the Champion of Kirkwall, or even the run-away viscount. But as the woman who led the slaughter against the Kirkwall circle. The last thing she needed was a pack of magicars on her tail.

"And our alternative?" he asked her.

"We head back towards Nevarra City. From there we cut through the Fields of Ghislain and end up in Val Royeaux. Once there we can either follow the Imperial Highway around Orlais on foot, or cross the channel from the city. No matter which we choose, we'll have to pass over the Frostback Mountains, and at this time of year it's going to be... well, near impossible."

"That's just great," Isabela huffed.

So their options were limited. Either head to Cumberland and possibly go up against tevinter imperialist. Or take the long way, which could add days if not weeks to their journey, and brave the mountains only to die an icy death. Sebastian sighed. There had to be a better way.

"There's no point in delaying the inevitable," Hawke said, "we might as well take the most direct route."

"But-"

"Don't worry about it," she cut in, interrupting Isabela, "we'll stay low and avoid as much attention as we can. We'll head east until we hit the bridge, then go south to Cumberland. Once there we can take a boat to Jader, it's only half a days ride to Orzammar, and from there we can continue south to Redcliffe."

It seemed a solid plan. Foolish, but solid. The last time he'd been to Cumberland the presence of magicars were only minor. But with the uprising came an influx of mages, rife with ability and perfect for slavery. If they could be caught. Between the templars and the magicars, Sebastian didn't know which fate was worse.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her, "if they catch you, Maker knows what they'll try to do to you." _Not that.. he.. cared or anything._

Deciding to ignore his question, Hawke said, "Pack the mounts and we'll be off. We should reach the Imperium Bridge by mid afternoon if we leave right now." Then she was gone, leaving himself and Isabela to tend the horses while she resumed her place on the chantry steps, once again doting love on her trusty sidekick. He rolled his eyes.

**o.O.o**

Hawke shuffled uncomfortably. Sharing the saddle with Isabela was a giant pain in the ass. The buxom pirate at her back kept fidgeting, pushing her further up the saddle making her thighs rub against the brawny leather. Each time she managed to wriggle herself back, she'd squish into Isabela's chest which elicited a very colorful array of suggestive comments that were quickly becoming old. She was going to have a nasty rash by the end of the day.

They'd been riding – painfully, for most of the day at a gentle pace. She wasn't in any hurry to get to Cumberland. If it were up to her she'd rather be at battle with Sebastian. Finally. She'd waited so long for this chance. It was what she wanted. _No it wasn't. _It was what she deserved. _Don't be stupid! _It was her right to die in battle with him. _No..no..NO! _Hawke wanted to slap herself. Those voices had no place in her head.

He rode slightly ahead, concentrating on the path. The road that stretched between Nevarra City and Starkhaven followed the twisting curves of the Minanter River, and was the only means of safe passage for the dozens of villages that settled in between. Usually the roads were quiet. One or two people at the most, traveling from village to village or village to city to peddle their wares. Today, however, the road seemed much busier. They'd already passed a few groups of people, all looking the worse for wear and carrying very little if anything at all.

As they finally reached the Imperial Highway Bridge that lead south to Cumberland, she noticed a slew of people gathered around the bridge entrance. Once they got closer she could pick out small snippets of conversation.

_'It was horrible...' '...so many dead...' '…to Nevarra...Cadfer is in ruins...' _

Hawke had to do a double take. Did she hear them right? Did that man just say Cadfer? Her horse come to a halt before she realized it. Sebastian, too, had slowed his advance and was caught up in the gossiping. The color had drained from his cheeks, his face carved like stone.

_'How could this have happened?' 'dead...all dead...' '...bandits everywhere...'_

Sebastian vaulted off his horse in one leap, landing solidly and approached the small gathering with haste. "What did you say?" he asked, tripping over the words as they came faster then his mouth would move, "what was that about Cadfer?"

Breaking away from the group, one of the older gentlemen turned to him; his face scarred and fleshly wounded. "Aye Ser, I said Cadfer. Our home was raided by bandits and mostly burned to the ground. They came out of no where, a group of twenty or so."

Sebastian almost buckled at his knees, "Do you know of Madoc Casca?" he said desperately, clutching at the poor mans shirt, "does he travel with you?" His gaze passed over the crowd of people that milled around. Sad, hard-pressed faces that spoke volumes of the horror they had witnessed. Women and children were clinging to each other, and he noticed a disturbingly low number of men. He could only guess they'd stayed behind to defend their escape. His heart sank a little, they'd most likely be dead by now.

"He isn't here that I know of," the old man replied after a few moments, "last I saw his farmhouse was ablaze and he was no where to be seen."

"Are you certain?" Sebastian turned, his hand once again latching onto the old mans shirt, "does he still live?"

"I...I'm sorry Ser, I do not know."

Frustrated, Sebastian turned on his heels and mounted his horse, kicking poor Pudding with such a force she reared up before taking off in a full gallop.

Hawke watched him leave, absolutely dumbfounded. Behind her, Isabela groaned, "Great!" she exclaimed, "what do we do now? We can't let that idiot go off alone, he'll get himself killed if the raiders are still around."

"And what am I supposed to do about that," Hawke said nonchalantly, taking up the slack on the reins and turning her stallion, "he didn't ask for my help."

Isabela craned her neck, trying her best to let Hawke see the disgusted look she now held. "Makers breath girl, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that." With a start, she kicked herself off the horse, planting a very firm foot on the ground and spun towards the champion. "Take the horse," she growled, jamming her hands on her hips, "go after him you idiot! Put this silly feud behind you for just a moment and help the boy."

Hawke was about to argue, when Isabela cut her off. "I'll go to Cumberland ahead of you. I'll try and dig up some information on Tobias and charter us a boat. I'll wait for you two to arrive."

"I can't let you do that," Hawke said, shaking her head, "it's too dangerous for you to go alone."

Isabela threw her head back, roaring with laughter. After catching her breath she took the stallion by his bridle and led them through the throng of refugees. "Please Hawke, I'm not a child. I've had my fair share of dealings in Cumberland. I know some people, of less then reputable fame. I'll be fine. Besides... we have a friend there." Turning to Hawke, she flashed the bewildered champion a wink. "Just hurry and go after out fair prince. He's going to need your help." Her hand came down hard on the stallions hindquarters, sending him rearing and neighing his displeasure before galloping away at top speed.

Isabela watched them leave, quickly becoming nothing more then a cloud of dust. Merc followed closely behind. This was going all kinds of wrong. Turning back to the fleeing villagers, she blended in as much as she could thinking quietly to herself that maybe some time alone together might heal their fractured relationship. They were friends once. Happy. Each helping the other. But that was a long time ago now and so much had happened since then. Still, she thought with a smile, time does heal all wounds. Letting her mind settle she allowed herself to get lost within the crowd and readied her legs for the long, long walk that lay ahead.

**o.O.o**

Hawke followed at a lengthy distance, pushing her stallion to his limit. Ahead of her, Sebastian drove his horse beyond the creatures threshold. There was no way the mare could endure the pace for much longer. Hawke had a trained charger, bred for such treatment. Poor Pudding was a mere farm horse and child's pet.

For hours they'd rushed the lands, following the various mountain paths that paralleled the Minanter, until the sun began to fade in the sky and enough was enough. She couldn't stand the mares sluggish gait a moment longer. Kneeing her stallion she pulled along side him.

"Sebastian, we need to stop." She tried to reach out for his reins, but the prince pulled himself away.

"Leave me be Hawke, we can keep going. I have to get to Cadfer as quick as I can." He refused to look at her, his piercing blue eyes set dead ahead on the path before them.

"You won't make it to Cadfer if your horse had passed out and died from exhaustion!"

Sebastian's brow crinkled. He knew she was right. For the last hour he'd noticed the mares performance wane, but try as he might he just couldn't bring himself to stop. All she could think about was Madoc and Rin. What if they were hurt? Or worse, what if they were dead! The mere thought of Rin, lifeless and cold, frightened him terribly.

Once again, she reached out for the reins. "I know you're worried, but we're only doing more harm then good to our mounts. If my horse is knackered I can't imagine how she's feeling right now."

He considered her words a moment, before reluctantly pulling back on the reins to slow Pudding to a gentle stop. Beside him Hawke did the same. Her charger whinnied impatiently as she dismounted and came to Puddings side. The poor animal was breathing heavily and obviously exhausted. Raising a worried look to Sebastian, she urged him to get down.

"It will be dark soon," she said, leading both horses off the path and into a clearing up ahead, "We need to set up a camp and tend to them." Sebastian followed behind, his mind in turmoil as he pictured scene after scene of what he might find once they reached their destination. The images only served to torture him more.

Hoping to distract him, Hawke sent the prince out to gather wood for a fire while she set about fortifying the site with a few traps. With Merc at her side, he was all the alarm she needed if someone decided to bother them in their sleep. But it was always better to be safe then sorry. Looking around she couldn't see Sebastian anywhere, guessing he'd wandered off and needed some time alone. Fearing he would get lost, she sent Merc to keep an eye on him. Once she was satisfied she'd sent him adequate protection and a guide back to camp, she started to assemble the only tent they possessed. Her eye went to the sky, and she sighed. Those were definitely thunder heads in the distance. It was going to be a long night.

An hour passed by before Sebastian lumbered back to the campsite with an armful of wood and Merc yipping at his heels. It had become dark very quickly. In the din he could just make out the silhouette of a tent and the slight figure of Hawke who was sitting patiently on the ground with her arms wrapped tightly around her. A pang of guilt went through him. He dropped the pile of wood at her feet and watched silently as she stacked them up, working her flints and igniting the fire until it was raging with much welcomed heat and light.

"I'm... sorry I took so long," he said, taking a seat beside the fire pit. "I needed to calm myself. I lost control back there." Mesmerized by the dancing flames, he didn't notice the offering Hawke extended him until she practically forced it under his nose. The sweet smell of fresh fruit wafted around him, and with a shaky hand he took the apple and nodded his thanks.

"Don't worry about it," she said, tearing into a chunk of bread, "sometimes we just need to be alone and think."

They say quietly for a long while, dividing their rations of fruit, bread and some sweet meat strips until they were both full and finally beginning to relax. It was fully dark now, not even a sliver of moonlight could penetrate the thick cloud cover. In the distance he heard the low rumble of thunder and gaped as lightening flashed brightly, sending it's raging fury in every direction across the sky. On the wind he smelled the distinct aroma of impending rain. Once in a while, Merc would growl. His ears laying flat against his head while he bayed at the noisy sky. Hawke threw the animal some scraps to shush him before suggesting he go and hunt his own food. Sebastian ghosted a smile at the mabari as he sauntered off. The breeds understanding never ceased to amaze him.

"You take the tent Hawke," he said quietly after a time, leaning back to look at the tumultuous sky. "I'll be fine out here tonight. You need your rest." He expected her to agree. He expected her to not only take the only shelter they had, but question him on why she should do otherwise.

So it was a mighty surprise when Hawke said with a stern tone, "Don't be silly Sebastian. It's going to pour down soon enough. You won't have fire to keep you warm or shelter to keep you dry. There's enough room for two inside." She'd said it so matter-of-factly that Sebastian could do nothing but gawk at her.

"I...I don't think that's very proper..." he started, but was quickly hushed.

"It's all right. If you stay out here during the rain and get sick, you won't be any good to anybody. Least of all your friends in Cadfer."

The statement struck his as true, and he guessed he'd have to swallow his pride and comply. He gave her an accepting nod. Message received, he said, "OK then. I hear you. You go on ahead, I'm going to stay up for a while longer."

As he watched Hawke yawn loudly and crawl into the tent, his thoughts went back to Isabela. She must have gone ahead to Cumberland. Again, guilt went through him. He hadn't even asked Hawke about her. Since when did he become so careless? So... self absorbed? He closed his eyes and sunk to the ground. He'd really fallen far from the Makers side after all.

Cool smatterings of rain on his face woke Sebastian from his slumber. Surprised to find himself still outside and lying on the ground, he must have fallen asleep without realizing it. The fire was almost extinguished due to the rain, the heat and light now severely diminished. A shiver went through him, he was wet and cold.

Drawing back the flap on the tent, he crawled inside being careful not to disturb Hawke who in the dying light, was curled up on her side; asleep. To his surprise there did indeed seem to be enough room for two. _But only just. _Kicking off his boots he settled himself beside her. He could feel beads of rain drip down his chest and back, his shirt clung uncomfortably to his torso. In the darkness he groped around for his belongings. He was sure he packet a towel or handkerchief he could use to dry himself off. At least his pants were relatively dry. Damp, but not discomforting. His hands fell on his satchel and he began to rummage around when behind him Hawke roused from sleep.

"What's going on?" she slurred, rubbing at her eyes. "Is everything all right? What's wrong! What happened?" She sat up quickly, her hand reaching for the dagger that lay beside her. In an instant she'd gone from sleepy to on full alert.

"It's all right, it's just me." Sebastian said calmly, "I'm just looking for something to dry myself off with." He could have sworn he saw Hawke roll her eyes and shake her head in the darkness.

"You fell asleep... in the rain!"

He nodded, resuming his search, "I didn't mean - HUH!" Sebastian jolted, almost biting his tongue when he felt a hand on his back, clutching his sodden shirt.

"Makers breath man, you're soaking! Are you trying to make yourself sick? Do you think you need to add one more trouble to our steadily growing list!"

Sebastian froze as she growled him. He didn't know whether to argue with her, or laugh. She was acting like his mother. He could make out her shadow as she ruffled amongst her own belongings, muttering under her breath words of annoyance, and came away with her face cloth.

"Take your shirt off." She said simply.

"Beg pardon?"

"Your shirt," she said again, irritated at having to repeat herself, "take it off."

"That's not necessary Hawke, I can manage." He reached out and took the cloth from her. "I can do it, thanks anyway." Propping himself onto his knees, he peeled the shirt off his body, thankful for the darkness that not only concealed his naked chest but also the sudden rush of color to his cheeks. As soon as the shirt came away, cold permeated his skin, causing him to shiver. He wiped as much of the moisture off his chest and stomach before drying his arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hawke was looking at him- silently. He twisted his arm, trying as he might to reach his back, before once again jerking away when her hand came upon his.

"Let me help," she said softly, taking the cloth from him, "turn around."

He stared at her darkened form a moment and felt the heat in his cheeks blaze anew, but turned from her anyway. His breath hitched as she swept the cloth across his back slowly, following the contours of his broad shoulders, before moving lower around his flank and finally to his waist. Without meaning to his eyes closed as she caressed him, the feel of her hand sending warm tendrils through his skin. So mesmerized was he by her gentle touch, he almost missed her question.

"Are you cold? You're shivering."

"I..I'm all right," he replied thickly, somewhat disappointed at the interruption of her ministrations. When her hand left his back, the warmth went with it.

"Turn around please." Her voice was so breathless, he had to strain to hear it. As he turned and came face to face with her, he was startled at how close she was. In the darkness, she moved, leaning towards him. Sebastian's mind reeled as her warm breath grazed his cheek and the itchy material of a woolen blanket was wrapped around him. She pulled the lip of the blanket up, covering him all the way to his chin and pushed him back, urging him to lay down.

"Get some sleep," she said, covering him now with her own blanket for added warmth, "you'll need your rest for the ride in the morning." Then she returned to her side of the tent and curled up again.

An overwhelming urge to touch her came over him. For some reason he felt a sort of... disappointment. He forcefully pushed the thought from his mind and instead settled on a more stoic approach. "Thank you," he managed to say.

For a moment he thought she'd fallen asleep, but smiled inwardly when her reply came from within the darkness. "You're welcome Sebastian."

**o.O.o**

In the days that followed, Hawke dared not utter a word about their close encounter. It was much too confusing for her right now and just seemed easier to try and forget about it all together. The memory of his form, of his closeness, still dogged her however, and no matter how hard she tried to push it out of her mind it kept creeping back in there. Taunting her. Sebastian also seemed reluctant to not only talk to her, but let his gaze linger on her longer then a moment. She'd even spent last night curled beside the fire with Merc, insisting the prince take the tent just so she could get some peace from all the tension. It did make for a very quiet journey though.

It was early afternoon when they reached the boundary of Cadfer. What they found made Hawke's insides churn. The village was all but razed to the ground. Some of the larger dwellings were still smoldering, expelling thick gray/white smoke. Stray embers flittered around the burnt out shells of once proud buildings, seeking more fuel to burn and keep themselves alive. As they rode through what she guessed was once the center of the village, she was horrified to see the charred remains of numerous bodies. Men, woman and children alike. Those that hadn't been caught among the flames, were either skewered or bludgeoned to death as they tried to escape.

Beside her, Sebastian rode in stony silence, his eyes devoid of emotion. Losing his usual bright glean and becoming several shades darker. His jaw tensed, the muscles in his neck straining, making him flush a deep red. He bucked Pudding forward, passing through Cadfer and out towards the lowlands ahead of her.

When Hawke reached the farm she saw Pudding wandering aimlessly, alone. The farmhouse was completely destroyed, reduced to nothing more then a pile of scorched timber. Sebastian was standing in front of it, his head lowered and fists clenched tightly at his side. Dismounting from her horse she came up behind him, unsure of how to proceed. The two people who had lived here must have been very special to him. She could relate to his loss.

"I'm... sorry Sebastian," she said with remorse, moving to his side, "I wish there was something I could do." She really meant it. There was no greater tragedy then the death of an innocent child. She let her hand fall on his shuddering shoulder and squeezed, watching with stunned breath as tears rolled off his chin.

"They...didn't deserve this Hawke," he cried, his voice wavering as he spoke, "this isn't right. She was just... a child.. a baby!" His legs buckled and he fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. "I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed here. I could... I could.. have.. saved them!"

She wanted to hold him. Let him weep on her shoulder. Console him like a friend should, but she couldn't. Each time she reached for him, something in the back of her mind warned her not to. And it wasn't just in her mind, she actually felt something around her... warning her... watching her.

Merc growled beside her, drawing her attention to the trees beyond them. A flicker of a shadow caught her eye. The mabari barked, stalking to and fro like he was sizing up a ghost. Hawke quickly went to her dagger, pulling it free and stepped in front of Sebastian. Protecting him. A slew of thoughts went through her,_ the raiders must have stayed to rob the corpses._

She was about to let Merc loose. Command him to seek out the blighter, when to her surprise a small girl stepped out from the bushes. She was covered in ash and soot, her once shiny brown hair now filthy and disheveled. Dirt smudged her cheeks, still plump with baby fat. Her dress was torn and her bare feet caked with dried mud. Hawke felt a hand clasp her leg, squeezing with vigor.

"R...Rin..?" Sebastian stared at the girl, wide-eyed. "Rin? Is that.. you?"

The young girl stepped forward carefully, her eyes searching Sebastian's face until a spark of recognition ignited and she bubbled up in tears, running with abandon into his arms and screamed. "LYON!"

Rin lead them through the smokey remains of the wheat and corn fields, until they came upon the outhouse used to store old farming equipment and furniture in disrepair. It was a small shack hidden quite cleverly in the thick of trees and tangled shrubbery.

"He keeps sleeping.." the little girl was saying, "..it's getting harder to wake him up."

In the corner of the single room, stretched out on a filthy, beaten cot; was Madoc. From where she stood at the door, Hawke could smell the unmistakable stench of rot, a smell so putrid it actually made her recoil. Madoc was still alive, though for the moment it seemed more a curse then a blessing. He was horribly burnt, the skin on his face and arms peeled or blistered. The smell was coming from the infection in the wounds. How the poor man had managed to survive this long was a miracle. Sebastian knelt beside him, his breathing erratic.

"Makers breath... Madoc! I'm.. I.."

Madoc gurgled, struggling – fighting- for words. Each time he moved the freshly scabbed over wounds would tear and ooze. "Sebasss... is that you?" Sebastian nodded, unable to speak as tears sprang in his eyes. "I knew you'd come back. I knnnew..." He convulsed, collapsing in a fit of sticky wet coughs. "Rin? Is she...?"

"She's right here old friend," Sebastian manged to say, "she's safe."

"G..good.." Madoc spluttered again, worse this time. "Take care.. of her.. pleassse. I can't.."

"Don't talk like that Madoc, you can take care of her just fine when you're all better." He laughed, trying to cover up the deep sorrow he felt. Trying to be strong.

"The Maker calls," Madoc said plainly, trying to smile up at his friend, "I will go to him. Take care of my girl. I beg you. Take her to my sister in Cumberland, she will...look...after," his breathing rattled, the words making him increasingly weak and tired. Hawke saw his eyes slide shut.

"I will," Sebastian cried, finally succumbing to his grief, "I'll take good care of her. You know I love her very much." He took up Madoc's hand and held it.

"Please Sebassstian, I want to hear it. The Chant. Send me... to.. the Maker.."

So he did. Through strained tears and with a quivering voice he recited the Chant of Light until Madoc's hand went limp in his. Hawke slid from the room, listening from outside as the Chant was spoken, and all she could think about was how this was just another death she could chalk up as her fault. If she hadn't called Sebastian away, Madoc would still be alive and Rin would still have a father.

**o.O.o**

Hawke watched from the bottom of the hill as Sebastian and Rin buried Madoc. Steeped in her own regret, she thought it was better to let the two have their private moment and not allow them to witness her decent into despair.

But under it all, she still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. She thought it was just Rin, but there was something else bugging her. It was almost too quiet. There should be bird calls or insect chirrups, but there was none to be heard. In the twilight gloom she thought she saw shadows dancing within the trees again. One.. two.. she lost count. Then the gleam of something metal and the unmistakeable sheathing of swords. This time.._this time, _she wasn't expecting a child.

As if reading her mind, the forest came alive. A chaotic rush of flailing arms and weapons raised high came hurtling towards her. Panic flared in her. She could clearly make out at least thirteen bandits swathed in a different array of armors and leathers.

Turning quickly, she gunned it up the hill, her legs pumping "Sebastian!" she yelled, "Get out of here!" He turned towards her and she saw his face fall when he spied the coming tirade. Clutching fast to Rin, he asked what was going on.

"Raiders from before is my guess," to which Rin nodded in agreement, "you have to get out of here." There was no way she was going to lose two innocent people today.

"I can't let you fight them alo-"

Hawke snatched his shirt, cutting him off. "Merc will cover your escape. Take my charger!" Then while he continued to gawk at her, she screamed, "Damn it Vael! Take her and go! I'll hold them off!" Before he could argue further, she pushed him away. "GO! I'll catch up!" Then she was off, running towards the group of raiders that were baring down on her.

Her hands went to her daggers and in one leap she was on the first man, slashing and slicing at any piece of skin she could see. He fell to the ground, blood spurting from precisely carved wounds. Another man came forward, appearing out of no where, but he went down in much the same manner. She allowed herself a quick glance back and saw that Sebastian had done what he was told to. Holding tightly to Rin, he was speeding off on her stallion, Merc trailing behind. At least the girl was safe, she thought.

Turning back to the coming mob, she was surprised by a hard knock to the face. Hawke was sent crashing to the ground. Quickly gathering her senses she leapt back to her feet. One of the men rushed her, thrusting out with his sword. But his aim was too high and slightly wild, allowing her to block the blow. Sparks ignited between their blades before she broke off the connection and leapt backwards. He darted towards her again, this time too low. She parried him effortlessly and anticipating his next move; drove her dagger up and under his chin, through the bottom of his mouth as he stepped into her. He gurgled as blood dribbled from the wound and he fell to the ground in a heap.

Another two circled around her, clearly weary of her skill. She went for the taller man first, ducking and rolling around his ankles. His gangly frame was too slow to respond to her speed and she jabbed both her daggers into his thigh. He toppled like a dead vaterral. Unsightly and all legs. His companion was the better swordsman, his swings coming hard and fast. No matter how much Hawke tried to parry, retreating and attacking at different intervals, he countered just as expertly. She tried to dodge a flurry of blows, but she was too slow. His blade sliced into the leather of her arm guard. Pain seared through her, forcing her to retreat once again and gather herself. He came upon her again, raining blow after blow on her. The clanging of their blades vibrating down her arm, making her wound sing with agony. She noticed his movement slow and become sluggish. Taking advantage, she feigned an attack; tricking him into defending his right then slipped left, drawing her dagger up and slicing clean through his jugular.

"Drop the blades, woman!"

Before she could catch her breath, Hawke was on her defenses again, backing up and straight into the arms -and sword- of another raider. He caught her around the throat with his arm, pulling her backwards; choking her. "I said drop it!"

Spluttering curses, Hawke dropped her weapons. Her captor rubbed the side of his greasy face against hers, whispering in her ear. "I got you. You're mine now." His tongue snaked out and he licked the length of her cheek. His breath reeked of alcohol, the acrid smell burnt her nostrils.

"Hand her to me Grim, do you have any idea who you have there?" Another man was stalking towards them. He was taller. Bigger. Their boss, she guessed. "You have the famous Champion of Kirkwall in your filthy mitts. Release her!"

For a moment, Hawke thought she was safe. He seemed like he was trying to help her. The thug at her back grunted, swearing under his breath and shoved her into his superiors arms. Hawke struggled, the mans hold was tough. His hand came up and stroked her cheek, brushing aside a tangle of hair from her face.

"Oh yes, I'd know that face anywhere. The Champion of Kirkwall before my very eyes." His glare was unflinching, hard and dark. She saw no help, no mercy in those iron-cast eyes. He bent closer, his dirty black hair itching her nose, "I heard what you did back then. All those people dead. All those mages.. dead." He laughed, a sound so harsh it actually scared her. "Not that I care. Thedas would be better off without those demon breeders!" She struggled again, picturing in her mind all the ways she was going to kill him.

"Let me go!" she said, venom lacing her words, "or I swear upon the Maker I'll strip the flesh from your hides!"

Her words ignited a chorus of laughter from the remaining group of raiders. They had gathered in a semi- circle around them, looking on with lecherous stares.

"Such a mouth," the superior sneered, "I bet it tastes as sweet as those words you spit!" Then his mouth clamped down hard on hers. The taste of stale alcohol and sweat engulfed her. The more she fought, the more he pulled her closer to him. Without hesitation, she bit down hard on his tongue.

He pulled away, blood smearing along his lip. In a fit of rage he pulled back and dealt her a vicious backhand. She hit the ground hard, the air forced from her lungs. Glaring at her, the man growled, "You bitch! You'll pay for that!" Wiping the blood away he started to remove his gauntlets and sword belt.

Panic flared in her chest. She kicked herself backwards, trying to get as far from him as possible, and crashed right into the legs of one of his henchmen. Scrambling to her feet, the superior yelled to his men to grab her. They caught her easily, passing her roughly between them, laughing and jeering as she was bounced around while the leader wrenched open the front of his pants.

Dazed from the abuse, the men flung her back into his arms. A solid blow to the side of her face jarred her, knocking her to the ground once again. He fell upon her, pining her arms with one hand and delivered a series of punches with the other, until stars danced in front of her eyes and she tasted blood in her mouth. Suitably beaten, his hands moved and began to busy themselves with ripping and tearing at her leathers.

"I'm going to enjoy this Champion!" he sneered.

She tried to bring her legs up and kick him off, but a volley of blows to her stomach and chest staunched any attempt at escape. When he tore at her under garments, Hawke screwed her eyes shut; trying to block out the taunts and actions of her assailants.

Then as she braced herself for the worst, something hit the maniac with such a force, he collapsed on top of her. Through swollen eyes she saw the sky darken, and a shower of arrows descended on them. She pulled the unconscious body of her attacker over her more, hiding as much of herself as she could beneath him while the hail of arrows plummeted to the ground and skewered all in the way. All around her she heard the raiders scream, the tell tale whoosh as bolts hit bodies and they all fell to their deaths.

Sebastian was suddenly at her side, dragging away the dead body now peppered with arrows, that was covering her. His breath caught in his throat, and a look of concern marred his panicked face.

"Hawke! Makers breath..." His words trailed as he took in the sight of her. She was beaten, bloody and blue; her clothes shredded. He couldn't see a piece of skin that wasn't dirtied or wet with blood.

She tried to move, but heat coursed through her and she gurgled on the phlegm in her throat, crying out in pain. He held her down, fighting with her to keep her still, when she coughed up a wad of blood. Sebastian didn't know what to do, shock had frozen him in place. He'd raced back as quick as he could after stashing Rin safely away and left Merc to defend her, but he was much too late.

Then to his surprise, Hawke turned her battered face to him, her eyes drowned in sorrow, cut lips quivering as she spoke. "Please Sebastian, kill me. I beg you."

He choked back a sob and looked down at her. "I..I can't do that Hawke. You're going to be OK."

He tried to move her, but she wrestled free from his hands, ignoring as much of the pain that she could. "Of course you can. Use your dagger. End my pain, Sebastian...please. It goes much deeper then anything physical."

The look in her eyes tore at his heart. "Don't say things like that. Don't ask this of me. I cannot..."

"This is why you accepted my offer, isn't it? If you were ever my friend, then you will end my suffering. You don't know how desperately I want to die."

Sebastian swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Her injuries were ghastly to be sure, but it was the misery she exuded that worried him more. _There is no honor in killing someone who is already dead in so many ways. _Isabela's words came back to him. How could he do what Hawke asked? It was a cowards death, and Hawke was.. IS.. a warrior.

He took her hand in his and squeezed lightly, "You can't fool me Hawke. You say you desperately want to die, but I can see in your eyes just how desperately you want to live." With a steady hand, he drew away the strands of hair that matted to her face, and smiled. Despite her bloody and bruised cheeks, swollen lips and black eye; she looked every bit as determined to live then he had ever seen her. Even when the sudden flow of silent tears fell from her pleading eyes, did it sway him.

"Don't cry Hawke, I'm here. I'm going to help you."

At his words, Hawke shuddered; unable to hold her emotions back anymore. It felt like everything in her life came crashing down on her already broken and discarded soul. Her last attempt at holding her head above water was keeping her body strong, and now she didn't even have that. For eight months she'd struggled to put one foot in front of the other, trying to live day to day without sinking into guilt. But now she had no walls; no pillars to keep her strong. To keep her going. The tears came hard and fast, deep mournful sobs that sent both shame and terror through her. She tried to move away from Sebastian, but his grip was too strong. She wanted to hide, her pride and dignity now streaming in volume down her bruised cheeks.

Then she _was_ moving, or being moved; she couldn't tell which, and arms were around her. Cradling her. Holding her tightly, but also carefully as not to hurt her further. She was in Sebastian's arms. He'd scooped her up, pressing her hard against him. His body was warm. Comfortable. Familiar. She felt his hand come up and cradle her head closer to his chest, and Hawke broke apart. Her fingers gripped his shirt, his back; anywhere she could get a hold, and she let herself go.

She didn't know how long she cried for. Minutes. Hours. All she knew was that she had so much she needed to let out, and the warm embrace from Sebastian and his earnest coos of comfort, remained in her ears long after she passed out.


	5. Stolen Kiss

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

_Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver._

Beaten half to death, Hawke now has to trust in Sebastian to help her. But the fevered dreams she has doesn't make things easy for him, or his hormones. Wait, what? Since when did he have those?  
An interlude of quiet contemplation.

Comments/Reviews greatly appreciated :D

* * *

**Stolen Kiss**

An interlude

Hawke was dreaming – but it felt like reality. It seemed so real, that if she reached out to touch the scene, she could take hold of it. Manipulate it.

_It was a clear summer day. She could actually feel the warm rays of the sun on her skin and the wet squish of sand between her toes. She was standing on a beach. No, it wasn't a beach. It was river bank that looked vaguely familiar. _

_Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she turned back to gaze at the small village of Lothering burning in the distance. Rich columns of black billowing smoke rose above the primitive village, darkening the sky, as the buildings of mud-bricks, hay and wood burnt to the ground. She could hear a sound, a high pitched, keening sound, and even at this distance she had to cover her ears against it. It was like the sound of nails – hundreds and hundreds of nails clawing at a board of slate._

_Someone called to her. At least, she thought they did, for when she went to respond there was another girl who looked exactly like her running over the fields and towards a small group of people. This other her, this... imposter, was speaking. Her mouth moving at a rapid pace. It was like she was screaming, or more like bellowing instructions or orders. _

_Hawke squinted her eyes at the small gathering and pulled back in surprise. It was her! And the people she was with were her family. She choked on a sob. There they were, just as she remembered them._

_Bethany, her apostate sister now claimed by the Grey Wardens. She was as beautiful as she remembered, even with the look of panic in her muddy brown eyes. And next to her was Carver. She felt her breath escape her. Even though she'd spent most of her life at odds with her younger brother, it still pained her deeply to think about his tragic death. He looked so strong standing there. Did he even realize how protective he was being right now as he pulled Bethany behind him? Then her gaze landed on her mother, and tears began to well in her eyes. She missed her with a desperation that bordered on the insane. The horrible way she had been taken from her. Kidnapped, brutally murdered and beheaded. Then put together again like some kind of grotesque puzzle piece. It was beyond inhuman._

_She turned her attention back to the village. Amidst the raging flames, smoke and throng of panicked villagers, she saw an army of darkspawn. Their corpse-like faces twisted with a rage that could only be sated with blood and death. They swung their heavy swords at anything or anyone that moved, corralling the villagers up only to cut them all down like they were vermin._

_She wanted to move and run towards the village, but no matter how much she tried, her legs wouldn't budge. Their horrible cries reached her again, tearing through the sky so loudly it made her skin prickle. She reached out, pleading through teary eyes – begging the Maker to let her help. Having to watch her home be destroyed again was just too cruel. _

_But then the village was slowly disappearing. Something else was happening. The scene was moving. It twisted and twirled, wavering like heat coming off a worn sun-baked road. An immense pain claimed her legs, still making her unable to move. The smell of burning wood and flesh engulfed her. The sounds of cracking and popping echoed in her ears, then a thundering scream that was scarcely even human. All reason left her. Her eyes, which were clamped shut, flew open and the flickering scene before her came together piece by piece._

_She was bound at her ankles with thick straps of leather so tightly, they cut into her delicate skin. Her hands too, were tied behind her back, and around a long solid piece of wood that acted like a splint for her entire body. Her heart thudded, banging wildly against her ribcage when she realized that it wasn't a splint at all. It was a stake. And those inhuman screams she could hear, were coming from her very own mouth. _

_A sudden realization dawned on her. She was on fire._

_Flames danced and whirled around her feet. She could feel her flesh there burn, the skin sizzling and melting away, exposing the whiteness of her bones underneath. Violent waves of nausea flooded through her as the flames traveled higher, swirling in thick hot ribbons around her thighs. The white shift she was wearing, ignited. The fabric falling away like liquid fire as the searing heat claimed her torso and continued to head upwards. _

_Scores of agonizing cries erupted from her, her lungs suffocating from the smokey stench of her own flesh and muscle roasting like a pig on a spit. No matter how much she struggled, no matter how much she violently thrashed her charred body, the fire continued to envelop her._

_Before the flames reached her face and head, she saw through the blaze and made out the faces of her family again. She tried to call out to them, begging them to help, but her voice wouldn't work. She couldn't speak, and that realization brought a new flood of tears to her eyes. And her family, they were just staring at her with cold gray eyes. Steely eyes. Accusing eyes. Then the corner of Carvers lip curled, and he was grinning, mouthing words that she couldn't quite hear. He laughed, boring his dead eyes into hers as if he seemed to be enjoying the spectacle he was witnessing. He reached out and pulled Bethany into him on one side, and mother on the other, while they too looked on with a sense of awe. They were studying her. The smile on their faces was that of wonder and morbid curiosity._

_The flames licked her cheeks. The feeling of her muscles and sinews rippling and singeing sent a new rush of screams through her. The thick rancid smell of burnt human hair wafted in the surrounding firestorm. Her lips began to burn. Lips that were once so soft, so kissable; turned into fleshy pools of bubbling fatty liquid._

_Her struggling ceased. There was no point now. She couldn't scream. She couldn't even feel her own body. She couldn't feel anything anymore._

_The last sense to go was her eyesight. As the flesh was melting away from her face, her big green-irised eyes were left unblinking. She could see her family, smiling and holding each other as they pointed and laughed at her. Then behind them, there was another figure. Straining her sight, she wasn't the least bit surprised when she saw it was her. Or rather, her other self. Same blonde hair. Same luminous emerald eyes. Same pale, ivory skin. But it was the smile that remained to haunt her dying vision. It was cruel. Evil. Then words were being spoken in her head._

_**This is what we deserve. This is our punishment. We could not save them. We could not protect them. We do not deserve redemption. No one is left to help us. No one is left to love us.**_

_The other her was right. Since Lothering, she'd made one awful mistake after the other when it came to the well being of her family, and she'd gotten them all killed. Even Bethany was lost to her now, forever._

_**No one is left to love us.**_

Yes, her imposter was right. No one was left to love her, because she'd killed the only man who ever did. There was no love, because love was dead. And so was she.

**~ooo~**

Sebastian wiped away the beads of perspiration from Hawkes forehead and temples. She was burning with fever and twitching to and fro as if in the throws of a nightmare. Every now and then she would cry out, sounds that were more muffled moans then actual words. She thrashed about as if she were in pain, but he couldn't tell if it was real pain or dream pain.

The bruises on her face were horrible. Thick, black patches covered her cheeks and around her eyes. Her left cheek in particular was swollen, and he wondered if the bones there might be shattered. Her top lip was also cut and quite swollen too. He pulled back the blanket that was covering her, and gasped. Not at the fact that she was completely naked beneath it, but at the many painful looking marks that daubed her once smooth pale skin. Deep purple bruises stretched down her entire left side like patchwork. They were concentrated around her ribs and just under her breasts. An array of cuts and scrapes had torn her skin and there was also a nasty set of ragged fingernail scratches around her hips and waist that he guessed had come from the thug as he ripped the clothes from her.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair as anger started to bubble beneath his surface. How could a man do this to a woman? Beat her half to death and try to force himself on her. The thought made him sick to his stomach, and suddenly he was ashamed of being a man himself. People like that didn't deserve to live. He'd seen to that though.

"The water's ready."

Quickly covering Hawke again, he turned to the door of the little shack they were taking refuge in. Rin was standing in the doorway holding a small pail of hot water. The poor girl looked like how he felt. Her chubby cheeks were stained with dried dirty tears, and dark bags scored the underside of her eyes. He gave her a gentle smile and waved her over to him.

"Is she going to be OK?" she asked, stifling a small yawn.

He tousled her grubby hair as he took the pail from her, ghostly steam billowing forth from within it. "She'll be fine Little Rin, she just needs some medicine and a lot of rest."

He carefully poured some of the hot water into a separate cup that held sprigs of elfroot and spindleweed, immersing the herbs completely and then covered the cup with a small lid he'd found to keep the heat in. The potion would need to sit and steep for at least an hour before it was ready to use. How he was going to get Hawke to drink it however, was another problem all together. To the pail he added a few shoots of valerian, to help soothe pain, and some fragrant lavender stems, then set it aside to cool a bit before using it to wash the blood and dirt from Hawkes body.

He pulled Rin onto his lap and held her close against his chest. He'd lost Madoc today, and that had torn him in two. But at least Rin was still alive. He actually thanked the Maker for that little miracle.

"So, your name isn't Lyon?" she asked him, yawning again.

"No it's not. It's Sebastian."

"Why did you say it was Lyon then?"

He wondered the same thing for a moment. After he left Kirkwall in search of Hawke, the anger and resentment he felt consumed him. Changed him. The things he did to people as a means of extracting information about her still disgusted him to this day. But then, his rampaging had caught up with him outside of Cumberland. He'd threatened the wrong man apparently, and had been jumped by his goons as revenge. They had beaten him senseless and robbed him blind. As he lay there in a pool of his own blood, he felt his resolve leave him and the flame of faith extinguish. He hated what he'd become, and was perfectly happy to die right then and there. But then a smiling face appeared before his eyes, and a hand extended; offering warmth and redemption. The rest was history.

"I didn't want to be Sebastian anymore," he said sadly, "I didn't like who he was turning into."

Rin shuffled in his arms so she could see his face and asked with a wide-eyed expression, "But you like him now though, right? I like Sebastian. I think he's very kind."

He smiled down at her, searching the child's deep brown eyes, "You do? And why is that?"

"Because he always helped papa and me, and now he's helping this lady to get well. Lyon is Sebastian, and Sebastian is Lyon," then she smiled so wide, her eyes crinkled in the corners, "and you both call me Little Rin. I really like that name."

How was it that this child could make him doubt himself so easily? That a single word or look from her could see right through him, as if he were as transparent as glass. He pulled Rin in and crushed her with a giant hug, fighting against the sting of tears in his eyes, until she playfully groaned that she couldn't breathe and he let her go.

She reached out curiously to touch Hawkes hand, and drew back quickly when she felt how hot it was. "She's pretty sick isn't she."

Sebastian sighed deeply, "Yeah, she has a fever now," he said, shifting Rin to one knee so he could once again lean over and dab Hawkes forehead. "When the potion is done though it should help her get better. It's because of your father I even have these herbs you know. He insisted on packing them for me when I left."

"Papa was always good with herbs," she said sadly, and after a small pause added, "he's with mama now right? Is... _she_... going to go to the Maker with mother and father too?"

The question made his heart skip a beat. His hand came to rest on the side of Hawkes face, and he stroked her poor bruised cheek. "Not today Little Rin," he said with determination, "not if I can help it."

"Is she your wife?" she asked out of the blue.

Sebastian almost choked on his next breath, then laughed. He counted himself lucky that Hawke wasn't awake to hear that. "No," he replied, his lip curling in a smile, "she's not my wife. We're just friends. We spent a lot of time together once, long ago."

"Is she why you left us?"

He nodded slowly, "Yes.."

"Is she important to you?"

He sighed again._ From the mouth of babes_, he thought. "I'm... not sure yet. Maybe."

Rin yawned again, and he felt her slump slightly in his arms. "You like her Sebastian. I can tell." she said sleepily.

He raised an eyebrow at her, "Is that so? And what makes you think that Little Rin?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear her answer.

"Because you look at her the way papa used to look at mama." She wriggled herself free from his grip and gave him a lazy smile before heading to the corner where he'd set up a make-shift bed for her. She curled up beside Merc, who was already dozing, and quickly sunk into a deep sleep.

He watched her for a moment, wondering to himself if she really was a six year old child and not some old woman in a clever disguise. He shook is head. He didn't think he looked at Hawke any different then he did anyone else.

He turned back to the cot and dipped his cloth into the pail of now warm water. The smell coming from it was intoxicating and sweet. Wringing it out, he started to clean away the dried blood and dirt from Hawkes face. The bruises did nothing to deter how pretty she was to him though. It would only be a matter of time before they finally faded. Once the potion was ready, it would speed her recovery exponentially from the inside, and the salve he had made from ambrosia would soften the coloring and help with the swelling on the outside. But first he had to clean her up, and that meant washing her entire body.

His brow furrowed as he thought about it. He could do this, he was a grown man after all. It wasn't anything sexual. It had to be done.

He pulled back the blanket again and took in her naked form. _NO, _not her nakedness, her wounds. _Concentrate on the wounds Sebastian,_ he scolded himself. Wetting his cloth again, he began to clean away the blood from her chest.

He could definitely do this if it meant Hawke would get better. He had to.

_Just please... don't let her wake up while I'm doing it._

**o.O.o**

_Hungry kisses invaded her mouth. His tongue swirled around hers, pulling her deeper – harder against his own. Claiming her. He moaned, and the sound made her knees turn to jelly. She captured his lips as he began unbuttoning her shirt, tearing at the fabric with reckless abandon until it was rent from her body. He kneaded her breast with his hand, slow and gentle; the complete opposite of what his mouth was intending. She nuzzled her cheek to his, loving the way his whiskers prickled her skin. It sent chills through her._

_Unable to stand it anymore, she tore at his coat, her fingers crushing the delicate feathers as she peeled it back, taking his shirt along with it and exposing the taunt muscles of his chest. A lick of fire ignited in her, starting low in her stomach and making her ache with an incredible need. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed him tightly._

_He laughed in her ear._

"_Marian, you are insatiable," he whispered._

"_Yes, I am. But I can't help that I want to eat you up. Every. Single. Piece. Of. You." Her hand traveled down and cupped him roughly as she spoke, fire dancing in her eyes. _

_He laughed again, "Is that so? Well then, allow me to make it a whole lot easier." He drowned her mouth in another passionate kiss as he unfastened her bra, then pulled back to take her breast in his mouth. She arched her back, relishing the feel of his tongue pleasing her. Her hands fisted his hair, the silky strands tangling around her fingers as his teeth grazed and bit her sensitive nipple._

"_I thought I was supposed to be eating you?" she said through gritted teeth._

"_Hmm?" He looked up at her, pulling gently on her hardened nipple before letting it snap back softly against her chest. "Oh? Well, since I've already started I might as well continue. Besides..." he cupped her other breast in his hand, running his thumb around her aureola, then lapped at it like a kitten lapping milk, "you taste so sweet Marian, I can barely stand it."_

_He raised himself up, hovering over her and pinned her to the bed. She looked at him quizzically as he pulled back and crawled down her body. She ground her teeth at the sight of him. He looked so predatorial and wild, it went through her like a hot lance. _

_He smiled wickedly as he pulled off her boots and stockings. She was never one for being submissive. She liked to be in charge. Be in control. But with him, it was different. She enjoyed the way he took the power from her hands. Waving it in front of her, teasing her. The bedroom was the only place she'd allow it._

_She delighted in the way he slid his hands up her legs and higher still along her trembling thighs. Fighting the urge to sit up, she watched as he played with the fabric lining of her underwear, slowly sliding them off over her knees. She heard him hiss at the sight of her before running a rough, cool palm from the inside of her thigh to the tip of her pelvis. It was with great effort not to explode from the sheer pleasure and beauty of that touch alone._

_Biting his lip, he slowly pulled away her skirt, lifting up her bottom so he could slide it away and discard it on the floor with the rest of her clothing, leaving her naked and wanting before him._

"_I want to look at you," he said as he pulled the rest of his own clothing off. _

_Her heart pounded at the sight of his pale, masculine body. Her eyes drinking him in and landing hungrily on the extremely firm erection he proudly displayed. _

_He picked up her foot, rubbing the sole of it with tender care. Ripples of pleasure went through her, until he took a nip of the flesh there._

"_You're killing me here," she breathed raggedly._

"_It's all about building the suspense, my love," he answered, taking another nip; this time at her ankle. "We start small," another nip, "then gain momentum," another nip, this time to the side of her knee. "All the while, building the tension," another nip on her inner thigh, "until..." higher, "...until..." higher again, "..it becomes much... too... much... to bare." He'd barely let his tongue graze along her slick, glistening skin when she shuddered in an orgasm that was so fierce, she almost crushed his head between her thighs._

_He laughed quietly as he rested his chin on her stomach, enjoying her rampant cries of pleasure. She sounded as if she were singing. When she finally calmed, he looked up to meet her now flustered face. _

"_Well, that was quick," he said, grinning like a maniac. _

_She couldn't help but laugh, her green eyes shining like pools of liquid. "Uh, yeah. Sorry about that." She reached down to run her fingers through his blonde hair, and pulled him up to her lips, planting kiss after kiss over his face._

"_Woe is me Marian," he purred between kisses, "and here I thought I was to be eaten by a voracious warrior."_

_"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," she said, rolling him over onto his back so she could straddle him. "I **am** a voracious warrior, and I'm starving." She gave him her best devilish grin. "And you my dear are going to make a delicious feast."_

_She ran her hands over his arms, seeking out every dip and curve of muscle. Then with her gaze locked salaciously on his, she shifted her weight so that the center of her body was pressed against the tip of him, and slowly inched herself down until he completely impaled her._

_The sensation of his hard length inside of her was incredible. She lifted herself up again, planting a kiss on his hungry mouth and then slid back down to take him in all the way to the hilt. _

_He growled as pleasure tore through him, and lifted his hips to drive himself even deeper into her as she rode him with a furious pace. Her entire body was on fire as he cupped her breasts in his hands._

_She covered his hands with hers as her pleasure started to mount. Every time they made love, she was dazed by how good he felt inside of her. She quickened her strokes, wanting to feel him even deeper. And then she felt it again... that surging magic when her world exploded and the trembling overcame her._

_When he felt her orgasm, he was fired by it, and as they gained in strength and momentum, his own pleasure built until he joined her release. Throwing his head back, he groaned aloud, grinding her hips against his so he could feel every single twitch and contraction, while she in turn excepted his offering with every thrust._

_She collapsed on top of him, covering his body with hers as they both struggled to regain their breath. He brought his arms around her, pressing her now sweaty body against his, and kissed her head.. her cheeks.. her lips. _

"_Marian, you're amazing," he said as his hands teased her thighs and cupped her bottom, "but I hope you don't think I'm anywhere near done with you tonight?"_

_Her eyes widened as she realized he was already growing hard again. Pulling back, she looked down to see that she wasn't imagining it. With a shocked look, she met his sly grin._

"_It's 2 – 1 my love, I can't let you get away with that." He pulled her down roughly and kissed her, grabbing handfuls of her hair, then rolled her over so he could drive himself into her again. _

Oh yes, Hawke remembered how she loved that he took control of her. Thrusting into her with a force that drove the very breath from her lungs and brought tears to her eyes. Nothing felt better then him. No one owned her like he did. And no one would ever again.

**~ooo~**

The salve was thick and shiny, and smelled slightly of sugared fruit. It clung to Sebastian's fingers like sticky goo, and every time he spread it over Hawkes skin, he had to fight the urge to lick the excess from his fingers. Once, long ago, he'd actually tried the mixture while learning how to make it. He would never make that mistake again. It might smell sweet, but it tasted like old boot leather.

He smeared the salve over the worst of Hawkes bruises on her ribs, massaging it in with the greatest of care. She was still running a fever, but it seemed her nightmares had subsided for the moment, and she was now sleeping quite peacefully. He'd managed to clean her up without incident, but it only made the bruises stand out all the more. He ran a steady finger along the scratches on her hips and sighed, biting back the rising anger and lathered her with more salve. A tiresome yawn overcame him. It should be midnight about now, but as much as he wanted to sleep he still had much to do.

Scooping up a large dollop of the sweet goop, he began to massage it into her stomach when Hawke shivered and groaned. Thinking he'd somehow hit a sore spot, he pulled back and saw her eyes were screwed shut tightly and her breathing had become labored. Unsure of what to do, he thought it would be best to let her ride it out, then try again. Once she'd calmed down, he resumed his task.

His mind wondered, and he thought about the elfroot potion. It should be ready now and he'd have to administer it to her. How, he still hadn't figured out, but-

"_Ahhh...!_"

Sebastian froze mid rub and sucked in a surprised breath. That sound... wasn't a sound of pain. He looked up again and saw Hawkes face twisted in... _Oh, oh my! _He pulled back his hands quickly when the same soft moans came from her, and she squirmed under his touch.

Was she dreaming again? And if so, just what was she dreaming about? It sure wasn't like the nightmare she was wrestling with before. This one seemed much more... pleasurable.

Sebastian pushed himself backwards as he watched her writhe before him, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. She cried out again, another tantalizing soft moan that tore at his own body, when she arched her back as if in response to a ghostly touch.

This was more then he could handle. He reached out and grabbed the blanket, pulling it over her. He could wait a few moments until she'd managed to calm down, then he could continue with his treatment. But as he drew the blanket up past her waist, her hand caught his and she was holding onto him tightly. To his surprise, her eyes were still closed. It was as if her body was moving on it's own. Watching her with an intense gaze, Hawke sucked in a breath and brought his hand to rest against her breast and let out a moan so deep, Sebastian thought his face was going to spontaneously combust. He jumped quickly to his feet, snatching his hand back and stepped away from the cot. He needed some air, _now! _Casting a quick glance to Rin, he was thankful she was still snoring soundly amidst the cascade of blankets, and headed outside.

Much needed cold air washed over him, and he could feel the heat in his face start to lessen. Just what was that? At least he didn't need to wonder what her dream was about. This was going to make treating her rather difficult.

He leaned against the side of the shack and brought his hand up to his face. It was still warm, and..._NO! _He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts straight. _Now is not the time to get all childish Sebastian,_ he scolded himself again. Still, he couldn't get the image of her body out of his mind, or the memory of how soft and supple she was. How good she smelled, or those pleasurable sounds she made. But worst of all, he couldn't believe how his own body had betrayed him and responded to those sounds. He felt it even now, so much so that he had to tame his breathing to bring it back under control. A surge of fire had gone through him, and that hadn't happened in a very long time. Years. Many years even. But it was unmistakeable. He was... excited. No, his body was excited, which would account for why he now had a rather uncomfortable hard on. _Great! I've been regressed back to my adolescence_, he sighed.

He let himself sink to the ground to rest a moment. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he thought. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. And while he was on the subject, just when did he start to feel like this anyway? He mind-slapped himself. This was not the time. Not at all. Maybe someone should have told that to his lower extremities, however.

He took a deep breath. Then another. And another, until he could start to feel himself relax and... get back to normal. So what was he going to do now? He couldn't hear anything from inside the shack, Hawke must have finally gone back to sleep. But it wasn't like he could just go back in there and start all over again. That would be much too uncomfortable. He sighed deeply. He knew that wasn't true. He had to go back in and tend to her least he face the wrath of a certain pirate. He laughed in spite of himself. That was something he didn't want to have to deal with at all.

Satisfied that he'd pulled himself together, he pushed all other thoughts from his mind and lifted himself onto his feet. He peeked in through the door and sure enough, Hawke was lying still and breathing normally. Still unsure whether to finish applying the salve right now, he thought it would be better to forgo that a while longer and concentrate on the potion. He lifted the lid on the cup and swirled the contents with his finger. It was cold now, and the herbs had dissolved beautifully, releasing their medicinal properties into the water making a rich soup able to heal the most tricky of wounds. There was enough here for at least three treatments, so he could give her some now and some later if she needed it.

Settling himself beside her, he scooped her up so she was in a sitting position, and before he could get all flustered again, he made doubly sure the blanket that covered her had no chance of falling down. Tilting her head back, he let the edge of the cup touch her lips and used it to pry open her mouth slightly. As awkward as it was to do, he managed to tip the cup enough so a wash of potion entered her mouth, and to his dismay, dribbled out of the corners of her mouth and down the side of her chin and neck.

Frustration hit him and he cursed, setting the cup aside so he could clean her up. Her swallowing reflex wasn't kicking in, but between holding her up and holding the cup, he needed a third hand right now to coax her throat into working. He thought a moment. He could wait until the morning and ask Rin for help. Or, he could just wake her up right now. As soon as the idea popped into his head, he dismissed it. Waiting until the morning would just put unnecessary stress on Hawkes body, and waking Rin right now was just cruel. She'd been through so much lately and needed her rest. No, he knew exactly what he had to do.

With the cup in his hand again, he took a mouthful of the potion. It swirled in his mouth and made his tongue tingle, the taste a pleasant reminder of crisp green apples. Setting the cup down, he turned to look at Hawke, then at her lips, and leaned down towards her. Using his thumb to open her mouth, he brought his lips down onto hers and let the potion pass from his mouth and into hers, then worked his hand gently at her throat until he felt her start to swallow. He let it happen slowly, relishing the warmth of her lips on his. How they curved in just the right places and seemed to fit his perfectly. His grip on her tightened, and without meaning to his eyes slid shut as he lost himself in the feeling. He pulled her closer against his chest when somehow the hand he was using to hold her up, was now entangled in her blonde hair, while his other hand was carefully stroking the bare, cool skin of her back.

This wasn't right, and he knew it. Deep down he knew he should stop. The potion was gone, she'd swallowed it all. So why wasn't he stopping? He wanted to pull back, he knew it was the right thing to do, but... he just couldn't do it. His mouth moved, and surprisingly – so did hers. He caught her lower lip between his, fighting the internal struggle that was raging within him to let his tongue dart out and allow himself one little taste of her.

_No! No, this isn't like you Sebastian! Stop being an idiot and end this right now before it's too late!_

His brow furrowed, and with great effort he let his stolen kiss go, and mentally kicked himself. This was way out of line, especially for him. How was he ever going to look Hawke in the eye again after what he had done?

Pulling back an inch, he opened his eyes to look down at her, and was met by the most greenest, shimmering eyes he'd ever seen. Then those eyes turned dark and narrowed, and Hawke was frowning.

Sebastian froze. He'd been caught red-handed, and in his head, among all the damning thoughts and collective excuses, only one thing came tumbling from his accursed lips, and he whispered.

"Oh...balls."


	6. Accepting Sin

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

_Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver._

**The truth comes out, but can Sebastian live up to his side of the bargain? Even Hawke has shifting emotions, but can her tie to her lost love ever be broken?**

An emotional second part to their quiet interlude, before faiths are tested.

Once again, comments are greatly appreciated.

* * *

**Accepting Sin**

The lips on hers were soft and warm. They pressed against her with a light, feathered touch – almost hesitant. For a brief moment she wanted to immerse herself in the heat she felt, let it envelop her and keep her hidden within it's grasp. But as she delved headlong into the warm void, she found herself wrapped up in a sense of urgent need and want that somehow she knew wasn't coming from her.

There was a hand now, cradling her head lovingly. Long, cool fingers were twirling the stands of her blonde hair into loosely coiled knots. There was also the sensation of a large hand stroking her back, sending ripples of warmth and passion through her fevered body. Every time the hand moved, grazing calloused fingers across her moist skin, the hair on the back of her neck would prickle and cause her to erupt in satisfying goose flesh.

The mouth on hers moved, and she wanted to whimper at the loss. The change in position brought a rush of cold air around her, and she wanted nothing more then to crush the invisible warmth against her again. She was overcome with disappointment. Why did it move? Did it not like kissing her? Was she too cold? _Where did my kiss go?_ Kiss. Kiss? Yes, those lips on hers were kissing her. Kissing her like... like... a lover! _No! That was not allowed!_

Her eyes flew open.

Sapphire blue orbs met hers in a surprised glare. They were wide and glistening, and yet something about them seemed so familiar. She could feel the warm wisps of his breath on her face, making her realize just how close they were. If she lifted her head up a little bit more she could bump noses with him

As she stared into those sapphirine eyes, a flood of memories washed over her. A child's tears. The sound of clanging metal. A menacing face hovering above her. Pain. So much pain. Then a voice, a desperate and forlorn voice that tried to soothe her with words of comfort, and the feeling of being clasped in someones arms tightly just as she was right now. The fog in her mind cleared and his name came upon her lips. Sebastian. Sebastian was... kissing her!

WHAT!

He looked mortified. Like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, or a puppy caught peeing on the rug. Her brow creased as anger started to rise in her, when he finally found his voice.

"Oh... balls," he managed to say in a whisper, his once soothing touches frozen in shock. "This... this isn't how it looks!"

She ground her teeth, biting back the scathing words forming in her head. She searched his face for any hint of deceit. She remembered clearly now the attack by the raider, both the physical beating and his attempt to violate her. At her side, her hand fumbled in the muted candlelight for her daggers, or something she could use to defend herself with if she needed to, huffing with frustration when she didn't find them or anything else.

"Hawke, please... listen to me. I didn't do anything improper, I swear to you." He was tripping over his words, the look of horror he wore turning earnest. She was still staring him down but he never let his gaze go, as if he wanted her to see the truth in his eyes.

"I wouldn't take advantage of-.."

She didn't want to hear it. "I never knew unconscious women were your thing, Vael. Does it make it easier for you or is it purely a dominance thing? Please, don't let the fact I have my wits about me now distract you from your good time." Out of breath, she fought internally at the sting of tears in her eyes. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry again.

"I'd never do anything like that!" he said desperately, "I'd never take advantage of you like that, or in any way. I'd never.. hurt you Hawke. You have to believe me. Please.." She saw his eyes dull over and he finally averted his gaze, his face clouded with hurt.

Her anger immediately started to ebb when she looked at him, and she actually wished she had phrased her onslaught better then how she did. She knew him better then that. He was a man of the cloth after all. It still didn't explain what he_ was_ doing though. Did he even realize that as he spoke his pretty speech, he was still holding her against his chest?

With his head turned and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor, she could take in his profile. He had such a sharp, noble look about him. A regal look, and she was reminded of the day, many years ago, that she first met him. She'd been enamored by his looks straight away. His gold colored skin and large blue eyes that shimmered like sunlight dancing on the ocean. Even the prominent Starkhaven nose and angular jaw had only added to his beauty. But it was his honesty and dedication that had really attracted her, as futile as that endeavor was. She'd even tried flirting with him once and the bashful response she got in return only excited her. But, she knew it would never be. They were very different when it came to piety, and it would only have hurt her in the end. Then she'd been charmed by the mage and her attraction to Sebastian had been pushed aside.

She sighed. She knew he was being straight with her. Even after all this time, he wouldn't lie to her. Not about this. _Give him the benefit of the doubt, Hawke!_

"Fine," she said, "I believe you. I'm... sorry about what I said."

They sat in silence for a moment, and it gave her another chance to really look at him. He looked worn and tired. Faint dark circles marked his eyes, and even in the dim light she could see how pale he was. She leaned forward a little and wrinkled her nose as she inhaled, sniffing at the crook of his neck. He smelled of sweat and lavender.

"You stink Sebastian, and you can let me go now too."

He whipped his head around so quickly, his nose knocked into hers, causing their lips to brush against each other. He pulled back, a look of shock on his face. Then, as she was admonishing herself for blushing, Sebastian smiled and began to shudder with laughter. The sound was like music to her ears, and she couldn't help but smile with him.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, his laughter subsiding, "I've been so preoccupied attending to your wounds I haven't had the chance to clean myself up. Even Rin is still filthy." He dipped his head towards the sleeping girl. Hawke could just make her out amidst the blankets. "I'll take care of her in the morning though. It's you I'm worried about for the time being. Your injuries were pretty severe. They still are." His hold on her relaxed and she was able to move and escape his encroaching aroma. As she leaned back, a sharp pang of biting pain shot through her. Her hand clutched at her chest as she rode the waves of spasms.

"That'll be your ribs," Sebastian explained, "the potion I gave you should help with the pain soon. You can count yourself lucky they weren't broken, only bruised."

"Potion?"

He nodded, "I concocted an elfroot potion for you, that's why I was uh... you know." A rush of color blazed across his cheeks. "It was the only way I could give it to you. When I tried with just the cup it dribbled out everywhere and made a big mess. It was hardly attractive." Sebastian grinned, hoping his little jab was met with the jest that was intended. She only gave him an unamused glare, though he was sure she wanted to give him the finger instead.

He helped her lie back against the cot, watching her delicate features twitch in pain. Already the bruises on her face were starting to fade thanks to the ambrosia salve. It seemed her cheek bone wasn't shattered after all. Once the potion took effect, her ribs should settle and any other internal injuries would start to heal. He sighed in relief and smiled.

It was nice to have her awake though, as barbarous as she could be sometimes. At least he had someone to talk to. He even missed their weird, awkward silences.

"Uh... Sebastian?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you mind explaining to me why in the Makers name I am completely naked under this blanket?"

He could actually feel a drip of sweat run down the side of his brow. _And things were going so good too... _

**o.O.o**

The first of the dawns rays were peeking over the mountains when Sebastian finally let his eyes close and much needed sleep took possession of him. He'd narrowly escaped a sound thrashing from Hawke when he tried to explain how he'd cleaned and treated her. If it hadn't of been for her sore ribs, he might not have gotten away with just a verbal barrage, though her words could sting just as much as anything physical. But he'd managed to calm her down though, and after she applied a second coating of salve and drank more of the potion, she finally drifted back into sleep, leaving him alone again to watch her. He wasn't sure how long he lasted, but when he heard the first chirps of the dawn birds, he come to realize that he'd been awake for almost a full day. So it didn't matter to him he had no blanket to keep warm, or anything soft and comfortable to lie down on. As soon as his eyes slid shut, he felt his lethargic body give in and he was swept away into a deep dreamless sleep.

He was roused hours later by the sounds of laughter and barking. He was also surprised to find he was now covered by Hawke's blanket. It still smelled like rose and lavender. He inhaled the sweet scent and the image of her came to mind. She'd really lodged herself deep into his thoughts lately. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had ever done so. It didn't give him any peace of mind at all. Maybe once, before all the craziness at Kirkwall, they could have had something. They'd both been fueled with a passion for the cause, even though they were at odds most of the time. She sided with the mages at every turn, even when those mages would turn on her. But most of that was because of his influence.

Anders!

Sebastian felt his gut clench. The mere thought of the man caused the anger in him to stir. Anders was always there to steer Hawke in the mages direction, using his plight and pretty words of love to sway her. He constantly watched them from afar. Their stolen glances and hurried kisses when they thought no one was looking. The way he fell in behind her when they battled, or demanded all of her attention when they had free time. It wasn't lost on him how much Anders had fallen for the beautiful rouge, and her in kind. Because of that love she did everything and anything to help him. _Anything._ That had been her downfall. What was that saying? Love is blind? That was certainly true. Anders had betrayed them all, but Hawke most of all. And as they watched the Chantry explode before their very eyes, he felt something change in her. When he watched her take Anders's life, he felt her soul darken.

He had forced the feeling out of his mind then. He couldn't afford to get caught up in melodramatics when the city was crumbling around them. She switched sides at that very moment, and as they fought their way to the gallows, she killed every mage they came upon. She was different. Cold. Every strike she made, every throat she slit; it was like she'd become an unfeeling monster. When she took down Orsino, the darkness in her eyes had made him shudder. She refused to speak to anyone, preferring to keep to herself with her head hanging low and blades clutched madly at her sides. Then after Meredith's demise and the remaining templars bowing their allegiances, when he turned back – she was gone. That was the last time he saw her, until Chiglas. No one saw her leave or knew where she'd gone. She had just disappeared.

That was when his obsession to find her had started. He needed answers. Why did she leave? Where did she go? _Why didn't she take me with her?_

Sebastian pulled the blanket from his face and opened his sleepy eyes. He felt incredibly stupid. After all this time, was it as simple as that? That the hate he felt, wasn't hate at all? She'd been led astray and betrayed, just like he had. She'd lost someone she cared about, just like he had. But he'd sworn his loyalty to her, and she had left him behind. That, he realized, had been what hurt him the most. He wanted to remain with her and stay by her side, but she'd... abandoned him.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sebastian snorted a bemused laugh. So it all came down to a mere abandonment issue. How very... un-prince like.

As he took in his surroundings he noticed both Hawke and Rin weren't in their beds, then remembered the sounds from earlier. Pulling himself groggily to his feet, he headed outside. The sun was high in sky now and he guessed it was early afternoon. Across the clearing and down by the rivers edge he found the source of the noise. Rin was playfully sloshing in the water with Merc yipping happily at her side, and looking on from the bank was Hawke.

He leaned against the doorway and felt a smile come over him as he watched her. She was wearing her spare casual finery, a simple black singlet with matching shorts, and was sitting cross-legged on the embankment. A rush of feelings from last night came back to him. Why did he feel this way? He felt so calm now as he watched her. The way she smiled tugged at his heart. He saw no hint of the Hawke from that fateful day now. He'd even noticed a slight change in her over the last few days. She seemed more... alive.

The mabaris shrill barking shook him from his thoughts. Rin was splashing the hound, trying to take his attention away from the heavily chewed stick she held behind her back.

After stretching out his cramped limbs, he followed the small worn path along the decline and moved to Hawkes side.

"Why are you out of bed?" he asked, sitting beside her, "you should be resting."

"It's hard to rest in that small shack when the walls are shaking so fiercely thanks to your incessant snoring."

"What?" Sebastian raised his brow at her and she gave him a lop sided grin in return. "Quit lying," he grinned, "I'm a prince Hawke. Princes don't snore."

"Yeah well, tell that to my poor eardrums."

She turned away from him and made her way towards the rivers edge, testing the temperature of the water with the tip of her foot before wading in up to her knees. She took Rin by her shoulders and turned her around so she could wash the dirt and grime from her face. Rin giggled and struggled, but eventually relented, allowing Hawke to properly clean her. Once finished, she let the young girl return to teasing Merc and headed back towards the bank. When he saw her step falter, he thought she must have tripped on a rock or branch. But when her hand came up to her chest and she stumbled forward, Sebastian was on his feet quickly and there to catch her.

"What did I tell you," he growled, "you still need to -"

"I'm... fine." she said, climbing to her feet. "It doesn't hurt as much as it used to. The suddenness of the pangs just... sneak up on me sometimes."

Sebastian shook his head in disbelief. _She was so stubborn sometimes._

"I'd rest a lot easier knowing you were taking better care of yourself. I really should take you to bed."

"Oh, is that so?" she replied, giving him a sidewards glance. "I reckon you've had me in bed enough for one night, don't you think, prince?"

He drew back slightly at her latest barb. "I explained all of that. I thought you understood?"

"Yeah yeah," she waved him off, "just... help me out would you."

Shifting his weight, he put his arm around her and led her up the slope and carefully lowered her back onto the grass.

"Lie down, let me see how those bruises are doing."

"That's OK, they're -"

"I'm not going to argue with you Marian. Please, just let me help. Why does everything have to be a fight with you?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Hawke fell back against the ground. Sebastian pushed up her singlet to study the now fading bruises. They'd dulled to a pale purple/yellow mix, even the cuts and scrapes had softened. He ran a finger over the now closed scratch marks and smiled. They were healed, but would probably leave a few faint scars. He was happy with that though, it could have been much worse.

Letting his hands slide up her torso, he applied pressure around her sides with his fingers, testing for any pained reaction. Satisfied when she didn't respond, he applied the same pressure to her abdomen and then higher up around her ribcage. He was quite proud of himself. The potion and salve had done a spectacular job.

Then as he looked up to check the bruises on her face, his breath caught thickly in his throat. She too, was looking up and watching him with soft green eyes. Her delicate pink lips were slightly parted as she breathed, her chest rising and falling in time with his massaging hands. There was something in her eyes that confused him. He'd seen it before, but he couldn't place where.

His hand swept across her midsection, and she drew in a quivered breath, her eyes fluttering shut just for a second before meeting his gaze again. Sebastian felt his body come alive. The same surge of fire that had betrayed him last night took a hold of him again. He felt his heart beat quicken as he explored her supple skin. He tried to look away, but the pull of her languid gaze had ensnared him. Then he felt it, as unmistakable as the rising sun. He wanted to kiss her. He knew that now.

_NO! Stop it Sebastian! Don't go down this road!_

As if reading his mind, Hawke broke their contact and sat up so she could pull her shirt back down. He leaned back on his knees to give her some space, his body screaming at him for the lost opportunity.

"Th...thanks," she muttered under her breath, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Uh yeah, no problem."

"I think I will go and lie down for a bit longer," she said hurriedly, climbing to her feet. "another couple of hours rest will do me some good before we leave."

Hawke got halfway to the shack before he realized what she'd said. "Leave? We can't leave yet. You haven't fully recovered." He followed behind and caught her by the arm so he could turn her towards him. "You need to rest at least until tomorrow."

"I told you, I'm fine." Hawke growled, shaking him off. "Tantervale is only half a days ride from here. I need some new armor and Rin needs some new clothes. You can't expect the poor girl to travel to Cumberland in that tattered dress."

"But-" He tried to reach out to her again, but she shied away, almost as if his touch was poison.

"No! I have to get out of here! I need to get to Cumberland. I'm... worried about Isabela."

He could tell by her body language that that wasn't the only thing she was worried about. She had quickly become very agitated, and she said something that brought the reality of their situation back into focus.

"The sooner we get there, the sooner we get to Redcliffe and sort out this... mess. After that, you and I can finally have our duel."

The duel! He'd completely forgotten about that. He had promised to help them in their quest and in return he got the chance to take up arms against her. How could he forget that? It was what brought them together after all. But..

"I can't.. do that now. I can't face you in battle Hawke."

The anger shot through her so fast and thick, Sebastian almost saw it manifest into a physical being. "What? NO! You promised me, Vael! You promised!" She grabbed him then, clutching at his dirty shirt with white-knuckled fists. "Why?"

"I..don't.."

"We had a deal!" she continued to scream, her voice getting louder. "You promised! It's what I deserve!"

The statement almost broke his heart. "Look Hawke, I've been thinking a lot about... what happened. I realize now that I was blaming you when I shouldn't have. I know now that it wasn't your -"

"NO!" Her sudden high pitched scream made him take a step back. Her hands flew to the side of her head and she covered her ears firmly. "I don't what to hear that! I do not!"

Sebastian was dazed. What was happening here? She was... loosing it!.

"Hey, calm-"

"It WAS my fault! I know that! Don't say it wasn't! You don't know anything! YOU DON'T!"

He was actually scared now. Behind him he heard Rin call out, asking what was happening. He turned to her and cautioned her to stay away. Where did this all come from? She was fine not two minutes ago? He took a step towards her, and she recoiled, her back hitting into the door of the shack.

"Hawke, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. But I can't fight you now."

"You must!" she cried, "I need you to! I've been waiting-"

"I won't do it, damn it!"

"But...but..."

He had to calm her down before she got too out of control. He reached out and caught her arms, tearing them away from her ears. She fought as much as she could. He'd forgotten how strong she actually was, but he managed to get the upper hand. He pinned her arms against her chest and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her to try and quell her struggling.

"Calm down Marian! Please. I'm.. sorry. I'm very sorry.."

Her futile efforts at escape started to cease, and after a few minutes she finally went slack in his arms. He squeezed her tightly, burying his face in the tangled mess of her hair, shushing in her ear softly until her breathing came under control.

"Why?" she whimpered, sniffing back the tears.

Why? It was a good question, with a not so simple answer. He'd come to realize a few things lately. It wasn't her fault that the mages in Kirkwall rebelled. It wasn't her fault that the circles in Thedas were in disarray, and the templars even more so. But mostly, it wasn't her fault that Anders had killed the grand cleric and destroyed the chantry. For that accusation, he'd work a lifetime to make it up to her.

The main thing he came to realize though, was that he'd missed her these past eight months. He was angry that she'd left him behind, but he was more angry with himself that he'd not been there by her side when she needed it the most. And... he was angry with himself because he didn't know, after all of these years, how he really felt about her.

"Why Sebastian? Why..why...why..."

He couldn't bring himself to say any of that though. He couldn't tell her how he felt, because he hadn't truly figured that out for himself yet. So instead, he just held her, stroking the length of her hair while she cried on his shoulder, asking him over and over... why.

**o.O.o**

Hawke felt ragged. Every fiber in her body burned with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation. She chided herself over her earlier outburst, finally falling into a depressed sleep when her red-rimmed eyes plainly refused to stay open. She slept the rest of the afternoon and late into the night, when she was awoken suddenly by a dream she couldn't remember. Sweat drenched her forehead and made the hair framing her face stick in thickly matted wads over her eyes.

Brushing them aside, she sat up, swinging her legs around so she could dangle them lazily off her beaten cot. Sebastian lay sleeping at her feet, sprawled out like a cat basking in the sunlight. His face was hidden by shadows, but she could hear his soft breathing clearly.

Again, she felt embarrassment come over her. The hatred she had for herself and tried so hard to contain had been pushed past the tipping point, spilling forth like a fetid miasma. And in front of _him_ of all people!

Hawke wrapped her arms around herself to fight both the chill in the air and her erratic heartbeat. She was such a fool.

He deserved an explanation. He'd been very patient with her since their reunion and even took it upon himself to take care of her after the raiders attack. She hadn't even thanked him properly for that. The hair at the back of her neck bristled. She didn't want to explain it though. To explain meant to acknowledge, and she didn't know if her heart could take much more pain. She closed her eyes and wished away the dull ache in her chest. She did owe him though. She knew she was going to have to face what she did one day. Isabela told her as such many times.

She sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. She really missed her busty friend, as annoying and vulgar as she was. The two of them were very similar in some ways. She wasn't lying when she said she was worried about her. Reaching Cumberland had played on her mind since they parted ways. She was her one and only true friend after all.

But deep down she knew that wasn't the only reason why she wanted out of this village. And not just the village, but this whole situation. Being around Sebastian was becoming too hard. She constantly felt herself slip when he was near her, and it not only scared her to death, but made her feel dirty inside. Like she was betraying _him_. Her heart only belonged to one man, and since his death she'd surrounded her heart with an impenetrable wall. But every time Sebastian touched her, or looked at her with those sea blue eyes, she could feel that wall start to crumble, and that just wouldn't do. The longer she stayed around him, the worse it would get.

She padded barefoot past the sleeping prince and gathered her belongings, packed her bag and then retrieved her twin blades from under the cot before stepping outside.

It was an almost pitch black night, the darkness only softened by a sliver of moonlight breaking through the dense cloud cover. Pockets of stars dotted the night sky and as she took in their brilliance, she was reminded of that night eight months ago. The sky had been full of brilliant milky stars then too.

Reluctantly, she tore her gaze from the sky and in the darkness found her stallion. It pleased her to see the animal again. She threaded her fingers through his silky mane affectionately as she tested the saddle restraints and affixed her belongings. She felt like a thief in the night sneaking out like this, but it was the only way. If Sebastian was so adamant not to face her, then she had no reason to travel with him anymore. Besides, the further she got from him, the better it would be. Still, she couldn't help but recognize the stab of guilt she felt.

"Are you going somewhere?" There was an urgency in Sebastian's voice that made her turn around against her better judgment. He was barely awake, rubbing sleep and exhaustion from his eyes. He took a lazy step forward, "Why are you leaving?"

"Go back to bed Sebastian and forget you saw this. It's better this way." Returning her attention to her horse, she slipped her foot into the stirrup and hoisted herself up.

Warm hands caught her around her waist before she could mount, and held her in place. She froze under his touch, that same rush of damnable feelings flowing through her. For a split second she wanted to kick herself free and ride off as fast as she could. But her body would not obey her.

He pulled her back to the ground, but he didn't remove his hands or turn her towards him. Instead, he stood behind her, looming over her like a dark shadow. He was so close to her that she could feel the radiant heat of him envelop her, oozing over her like warm liquid honey. Then his hands moved, reaching around her and in one motion, pulled her hard up against him. Thrust backwards, Hawke squealed in surprise. The firmness of his chest and warmth of his breath on her neck almost made her knees buckle.

"Don't... leave me behind again," he whispered, the grip on her tightening.

Hawke could feel the sting of tears in her eyes, more out of frustration then anything else. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid. She didn't want to feel this pull she had every time he touched her, even though it calmed her in so many ways. She had to stay strong. It was now or never, whether she or he, liked it or not.

"Fight me Sebastian. Right now."

"No! I cannot," he said, pain lacing his words, "I cannot hurt you."

She felt a darkness come over her then, and looking to the sky for courage, she finally let it all out.

"When I left that night, after Meredith was killed, I went back... for Anders." She felt his grip tense at the mention of the mages name, but he remained silent all the same. "He was still where I'd left him, lying in a pool of his own sticky blood. Cold. Lifeless. And as I stared down at him all I could feel was anger. Raw, unbridled anger. But it wasn't just for him, it was for myself too."

"Do you think I struck down all of those mages because of the threat they could pose? Blood magic. Necromancy. None of that mattered to me then. Do you think I sided with the templars because I finally saw their cause as just? I did not."

"And, do you think I killed Anders because of his attack on the chantry and the deaths of all those innocent people? For the death of the grand cleric?" She shook her head slowly, "I'm sorry, but I am not that noble. My reason was much more selfish then that. I loved Anders with my whole heart, but I killed him without hesitation because he betrayed me. Not us. _ME_. It wasn't for some valiant cause or noble ideals. I killed him because he lied to me and used me. I murdered him. You see now? He and I were alike in the end after all. Everything that came after, I did without thinking really, because that's what I do Sebastian. I kill people. Even those I love."

She could feel him begin to tremble behind her. "I didn't do it for you. I didn't do it for Elthina." She turned in his arms so she could look up into his eyes. "I did it for myself and what he did to me. None of you even entered my thoughts."

"I took his body and left Kirkwall. I wanted to give him a proper burial and I knew none of you would understand that, so I went alone. Imagine my surprise when Isabela was waiting for me with a cart. We took him high into the Vimmark Mountains and I laid him to rest."

"That was a nicety he did not deserve," Sebastian said, his tone hard and cold.

"So says you Sebastian, but I couldn't care less what any of you thought. Why do you think I went alone?"

"But he-"

She waved away his coming words, "I'm well aware of what he did, and I claim those sins as my own. I did help him achieve his goal after all. But, carrying this burden was too hard bare. I wanted to be released from it. Isabela tried to talk me out of it, but not even her begging could change my mind."

"Why! Why would you willingly throw your life away like that? For him?"

Hawke nodded. "I hated him for what he did. And I hated myself for what I did. But, I still loved him and I wanted to be with him."

"So why me then? Why give me this.. honor.. of sending you to him?"

"Because you wanted revenge for Elthina. She was important to you and I used that anger to spur you on. I want you to have your vengeance, for both of our sakes. We need closure."

"Closure?" Sebastian began to laugh, bitterly. "But how can I do this Hawke? How can I try to kill you now that I..." he grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her pliant flesh desperately. "I cannot do it Marian, because.. I.. because I -"

The feel of cold steel against his throat cut his words short. The blade shimmered in the sparse moonlight, casting a glare of muted light across her face. "Don't say it Sebastian. I can't allow myself to think of you in any other way then the man I want to take my life." She twirled the offending blades twin in her other hand and held it out to him, hilt first. "Take up this dagger and face me. If you do not, I will leave this place and you will never see me again."

"And there.. is.. nothing I can say to change your mind?" he asked, hesitant to take the blade.

Hawke shook her head. A feeling of sadness welled within her. It was time to end this. It was what she wanted after all, wasn't it? She couldn't let her growing affection for him get in the way. The crumbling wall around her heart must stay intact.

"Very well... Hawke." Sebastian took the handle of the dagger and slid it from her grip. "If this what you truly desire, then I will...do it." His words were thick and tasteless in his mouth. "But I won't go easy on you."

Despite all of her trying, Hawke felt her heart break once again. "Neither will I."

She took a deep breath. This was right. This was how it should be. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't show weakness. She'd become quite good at masking how she really felt after all, especially to herself.


	7. The Guilt of Pleasure

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke/Sebastian

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

_Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver._

**Blades clash, as Sebastian and Hawke finally have it out!**

* * *

**The Guilt of Pleasure**

The weight of the dagger in Sebastian's hand felt foreign to him. The hilt curved slightly around his rough palm comfortably enough, though it's chilly metal did nothing at all to quell the sickly feeling he had roiling around in his stomach like a bad thunderstorm. Hawke struggled in his grip, detaching herself from the security of his arms and took a few steps away from him. The frigid night air invaded the spot she once held, and he found himself aching for her warmth again.

Sebastian measured the distance between himself and the now stoic form of the Champion, her own hand clasping fiercely at her dagger. Any notion of jumping forward and springing a full on frontal assault vanished immediately. After spending six years fighting at Hawke's side, he knew her strengths, but could never quite grasp the holes in her defenses. Those, she kept a well guarded secret. She was strongest, however, when she faced her enemy head on. Her speed was unparalleled too, as was her flexibility. But, he possessed the reach she did not, and surmising that if he ducked and dodged in and out enough, he could attack before she had a chance to retaliate. Besides, even though Hawke was a master at wielding her twin blades, she only had one at her disposal now. Her offense was already severely halved - so that, in theory, could very well work to his advantage.

Sebastian felt his heart begin to thud wildy, the blood rushing in his veins as a spike of adrenaline shot through him. _I cannot believe I am about to do this_, he thought, his mind racing as he watched her. _Why did I agree to be a part of this madness?_

The answer came to him before he had the chance to shoo the nagging voice from his head. If he didn't do this, she would leave and he'd never see her again. And if that action had hurt him before, before he felt as he did now, he couldn't imagine the pain it would cause him a second time. He was still trying to figure out exactly how he felt about her, and he couldn't do that without her. He... he needed her by his side. So, could he kill her like she so desperately wanted? That answer was all too clear. No, he couldn't. And, he wouldn't.

In the faint light of the clearing, Sebastian stared Hawke down. She was moving now, hunching down low into a tense attack pose, and slowly started to take a few calculated sidesteps. She was like a stalking feline. Fierce and sleek. Her eyes, though shadowed by the night, still glowed with an intense concentration that actually scared him a little. He'd seen that look on her face a great many times, usually right before she killed whoever was standing in her way. He couldn't allow himself to get distracted now though. Too much was riding on this to let himself be intimidated.

Sebastian found himself mimicking her movements, and for a few minutes they circled each other – sizing each other up. The dagger in her right hand gleamed in the scant light as she expertly twirled it several times around her fingers. Then as quick as lightening, and without warning, she charged him.

Hawke lunged, crossing the gap between them in a single bound, and was on Sebastian before he had a chance to defend himself. Her speed and agility, that he would usually marvel at, took him by surprise as she jumped – or more like flew – through the air, and brought her dagger down at an angle that would slice right through his neck. His instincts finally kicked in, and not a moment too soon. He planted his feet in place with no choice but to welcome her advance. His right hand came up and with his own dagger, caught her blade an inch from his face. The metal screeched, small sparks igniting as their weapons slid along each other. As Hawke's weight bared down on him, her left hand clamped onto his shoulder for leverage, and before she hit the ground, she struck out with her leg and kicked Sebastian hard in the bones of his kneecap. A sickening crunch shuddered up the length of his leg, and he fell heavily to his other knee, wincing at the pain that traveled throughout him.

Hawke was now dancing backwards, as nimble as ever, to assess the damage she had caused before charging him again. Ignoring the pain, Sebastian had no choice but to come lightly to his feet again, just as Hawke struck out with her fist. He saw it coming and managed to block the blow, only to deliver an equally quick and powerful open-palmed jab into her abdomen. He heard the wind escape her throat, and she stumbled backwards clutching madly at her chest.

Within his mind, Sebastian remembered something. _Her ribs! _The injuries to her ribs still hadn't fully healed. He hoped he could use that to his advantage also. Collecting herself, Hawke lunged for him again.

Sebastian made a scoffing sound under his breath. _For someone whose sole reason for this madness was to die at his hands, she was certainly putting up a fight! _He threw himself at her, exchanging fast and furious blows with their weapons. He thrust forward, parrying around her backhand and brought his good knee up, hitting her squarely in the stomach. She stumbled, but didn't fall, and rolled away to quickly gather herself. Leaping forwards again, she feigned a one-handed back-stab. Sebastian focused all of his attention on blocking the ability, just as she'd hoped he would. As he guarded against the move, Hawke used her agility to vault into the air. She kicked herself off Sebastian's outstretched arm and landed behind him. Blindsided, Sebastian rolled forward quickly, just as her dagger swiped low to hit nothing but thin air rather then the flesh and muscle of his back. He could feel the sudden rush of blood in his ears as he realized just how close he'd come to being skewed. She was much quicker and sly then he gave her credit for.

Gasping for breath, Sebastian leapt to his feet and entered the fray again. His only chance was to try and disarm her. With blades, this duel could only end in death, and he simply wouldn't allow that. Not his, and definitely not hers.

"Why must we do this Hawke?" he asked, his face barely an inch from hers as they collided with force again, "Why can you not just let this... hate... go? It's eating you up inside, can you not see that?"

He saw her features darken at his words. Their blades entwined and he used the opportunity to forcibly grab her by the shoulders and spin her on her feet. Twisting his dagger, he caught the hilt of hers and managed to fling the weapon from her grasp. They both watched as the blade spun in the air silently, landing on the ground and skittering along the dirt into the long grass.

"It's over Marian! Please, stop this –_ UMPH!_"

His words were subdued by a hard and sharp elbow to his midsection. Sebastian doubled over, the wind knocked from his lungs, which gave Hawke the chance to flee from his grip. She lunged towards the grassy area, hoping to retrieve her weapon, when Sebastian caught her by her ankle. Casting his own dagger aside now, he fought with her as she tried to get away, evading as best as he could the volley of kicks she dealt to his face and chest.

"Let me go Sebastian!" she screamed, her voice hoarse and out of breath, "this has to end now. It's the only way!"

He reached up to catch Hawke by her bare calve and pulled, dragging her away from the grassy patch and back towards him.

"Why are you fighting? If you want to to die so bad, then why are you fighting for your life? This does not make ANY sense!" While she was still struggling, he flipped her over and threw himself on top of her, using his arms and legs to pin her to the ground. "This isn't about Anders now, is it?" he screamed at her, trying to catch her eyes. "This isn't about you wanting to unload this burden anymore! What is it? _TELL ME_!"

Hawke's struggling lightened for just a moment and he was able to focus in the gloom on her face. She had her eyes closed, but the shiny reflection of tears on her cheeks were more then noticeable.

"Don't ask this of me Sebastian," she said through clenched teeth, "don't think you can get inside my head just because I told you all I did!"

"Then why fight back?" he asked, pleading with her. "Why not just let it happen? Why are you fighting back like your life depended on it? What is going on in that head of yours?"

She didn't respond. Instead, Hawke managed to wriggle one of her restrained arms free and side swipe him across the face. The force of the blow jarred him, and he toppled off of her. He fell onto his side, stars dancing in front of his eyes.

Hawke leapt up but didn't resume her search for her lost weapon. She stood firm footed before Sebastian and in an indignant tone she screamed at him. "I... _I don't know!_ I want... this. I want it to end. You promised me! But I... I..." She was fumbling over her words now, unsure of what exactly it was she wanted to say. "But every time... something in me... just won't..." She stopped trying then. Her hands raked through her mussed hair and she cursed loudly, clearly lost in her own head.

Sebastian climbed warily to his feet, the spinning in his own head finally subsiding, and faced her. "You don't want to die Hawke," he said calmly this time. "I can see it in your eyes. I can tell by how fiercely you fight to defend yourself. I saw it back then when you were lying broken and bloody in my arms begging me to end your suffering! Your words and your heart are telling me very different things, can you not see that? Well, let me tell _you_ something. _My _heart is telling me that I cannot kill you. _My_ heart is telling me, that _your_ heart does not want to feel this pain anymore! Can you understand that?"

Hawke sneered at his words. "What do you know of what is in my heart when even I do not! Don't try to confuse me with your pretty words, for they mean n...nothing to me! My soul is blackened because of the lives I took when I should have been saving them instead! I lost myself Sebastian! Those mages were not people to me! They were objects in my way. I... I... do not have the strength or the courage to carry on with this guilt forever on my shoulders! And yet... I -"

Sebastian took a step towards her carefully. "Baring indignation such as this_ is _the mark of true courage Hawke. What does your death do but rob those you, no _we – _killed,of any meaning. If you are so racked with guilt over what happened in Kirkwall, then use your life to right those wrongs, not run from them! Is that not the least you can do?"

"How?" Hawke demanded desperately, tears flowing freely down her flushed cheeks. "How do I do that? Do you know? Does the Maker have some grand scheme for me that will save my soul from _myself?_ Does He truly forgive murderers and liars? Does He forgive those that kill their loved ones because of deceit?"

"The Maker forgives all who repent with their whole heart, Marian. You just have to be the one to ask for it." And he really believed that. As tumultuous as his faith was at the moment, forgiveness and atonement from the Maker was something he always held firm to. It had saved him after all, back when he was just a child.

Hawke stood very still as she digested what he'd said, and for a moment Sebastian thought that maybe he'd gotten through to her. But she was stubborn. So very stubborn.

"N..No!" she said shakily, as if trying to believe her own words - but failing, "No..I have to do this... for Anders. It's only fair. I want to be... with him again..."

Somehow, Sebastian knew that wasn't true at all. He also couldn't believe he was about to say what came to him next. "You think Anders would want this? You say you loved him, yet you sully his memory, and do so as cheaply as he did for himself. Anders deserved his fate for what he did! Even he thought so! He wanted to play the martyr, and he did. Do you honestly think he would want you to do this to yourself, because of him?" He had to bite his tongue as he spoke of the mage. Just having to acknowledge their love made him... well, he wasn't quite sure. But he knew he didn't like it. "He loved you Hawke. He wouldn't want you to throw your life away because of something he did."

He noticed her wince at the mention of Anders, but he pushed it on her anyway. It had to be done. "If you think I'm going to be the one to give you your glorious reunion with him, you are sorely mistaken. I cannot kill you Hawke, and I will not. It's not release you desire, it's redemption! You are so blinded by your own remorse and guilt and wanting to die, that you cannot see there is someone standing before you who cares about you!"

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, Sebastian regretted them. Not because they weren't true, in fact - they were very true, but because as he said them he noticed Hawke's face darken even more. Her brows cinched together and she clenched her fists tightly at her sides. She was heaving for breath, every inhale and exhale forcing out more silent tears from her eyes.

Sebastian sighed, and decided he might as well continue. Put the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. "If you want my help Hawke, all you have to do is ask. I do not want to see you like this anymore. But it is you that has to be the one to change and take that first step. Until then, this fight is over." As he turned, he gave her a weak smile. "Also, I... I'm sorry for blaming you for Elthina's death. I always knew it wasn't your fault, but I suppose I needed to be angry at someone since Anders was already... dead. I blamed you, and that was very wrong of me. I hope, one of these days, you can find it in your heart to forgive me, Marian."

When she didn't reply, he turned his back on her and walked slowly back towards the shack. He could feel a great sadness surrounding them that he just had to get away from. He couldn't stand to be around her right now. Then as quick as the winds change, he felt that sadness dissipate, only to be replaced by a rising rage. Seconds later, before he'd even reached the worn path back to the hut, Hawke came charging at him from behind. He stopped to time the impending impact and turned his body slightly to take the weight of her body over his right shoulder.

Sebastian brought her crashing to the ground on her back and darted backwards to a safer distance. He couldn't believe she was still trying to do this! "Stop with this idiocy, Hawke!" he said, surprised that she was once again climbing back onto her feet.

"How DARE you!" she screamed. "How dare you say such a thing!"

Sebastian felt his adrenaline spike again. She seemed much more seething this time, but it only made her more reckless and act without thought. "I meant it. I'll help you if you want me to. I was wrong to accuse you. I -"

Hawke lunged forward to grab his neck but he pulled her arms to either side of him, and kneed her in the stomach. It wasn't hard, but was just enough to send her stumbling backwards, and before she'd had a chance to recover, he crouched down and spun a full 360-degrees to finish her off with a sweeping kick that took her feet right out from under her.

She landed with a thud and rolled up on her side, clutching her chest again. As Sebastian got to his feet, he let out an exasperated sigh when Hawke did the same, though she was much more sluggish this time around.

With ragged breath she said, "That's not... what I'm talking about, and you know it!" She moved with surprising speed this time, and with no time to fend off the blow, she punched Sebastian in the side of the face, putting the full force of her body behind it. As he hit the ground it felt as if she had shattered his cheekbone.

There is no pain, he told himself as he saw Hawke approaching to finish him off.

"You have no right to say those kinds of things to me. I do not deserve it!" Hawke spat, bending down to pull him to his feet.

Instinctively, Sebastian went into a tuck position. He grabbed hold of Hawke's arms as she leant down, and used his feet to propel her over him and onto her back. He flipped himself over and came upon her again. He pinned her legs to the ground with his knees and stretched her arms above her head, maintaining a firm and powerful grasp at her wrists. Her head was turned to the side, but he could see the conflicting emotion in her eyes.

Breathless, he asked, "What did you mean before, when you said you cannot allow yourself to see me in any other light?" He hadn't forgotten those words she'd spoken before their fight started. He wasn't sure if he'd even heard right. But, he had to know.

"Nothing -"

"Do not lie to me!" The desperation and agony in his voice surprised even him.

Hawke met his gaze then, defiance still written all over her face. "Get _OFF_!" she demanded, wriggling in his grip.

"Not until you tell me the truth, Marian," he goaded. "What did you mean?"

Her struggling stopped, but she still refused to answer. Sebastian didn't know whether to laugh or cry at her continued stubbornness.

"Hawke, for crying out loud! How can one person cause me so much frustration, yet at the same time... at the same time..." What? What was he trying to say? "How is it that as much as I want to throttle you sometimes, there is a part of me that just wants to hold you! Why is it that when I am with you, my heart is both disquiet and at the same time, at peace?"

"Stop Sebastian..." Hawke pleaded. "Please. I don't want to feel this for you anymore."

"But you do, don't you? You feel the same as I -" Before he could finish his sentence, Hawke began her frantic struggle for release again.

Angered by her attempt at avoiding his question, he held fast to his hold on her, when somehow within all the frenzied action, their lips had suddenly met. He didn't know how, or who made the first move, but the outcome was still the same and something within him was glad for it.

A surge of renewed adrenaline rushed through them both. Sebastian released her legs, sliding himself in between them, letting the full weight of his body come down hard on top of her. Their mouths, and lips and tongues were playing a dangerous game as they tasted, nipped and explored each other. Sebastian released her arms so he could cup her face and bring her mouth closer and deeper to his own. His mind went back to the kiss he'd stolen from her only a night ago. This was much different. Back then, it was more soft. More tender. This was the complete opposite. They were kissing with a hunger and passion that not even he, in his younger days of debauchery, could have fathomed. It was fevered, and wet, and carnal. The sounds of their husky breathing and fervid moaning made the blood rush from his head, and settle elsewhere.

Her hands found him and fisted his hair, pulling him against her so she could delve her tongue deeper into his mouth. The velvet touch of their mouths pleasuring each other was too much for the both of them. All coherent thought left him, and he was sure it had left Hawke as well. He lost sight of all his training in the chantry of abstinence and controlling his wonton desires. They were mere whispers in the back of his head. Annoyances. He couldn't stop himself now, even if he wanted to. Which he didn't.

Sebastian's body shivered as he felt his lower region grow and harden with excitement, straining against the confines of his underclothes. Hawke wrapped her legs around his powerful form and drew her body up to meet his encouragement. The delicious heat of her skin burned into him as she ground his hips against her. As she was only wearing her flimsy cotton finery, every dip and curve of her slight, toned body felt all too real to him.

His hips moved against hers, and a pleasurable moan escaped from her. He swallowed it down as he bucked against her again, drawing another excited groan and the new feeling of hands gripping his back. His shirt was being lifted, the cool night air washing over his burning skin. The feel of her hands on him, nails raking flesh and drawing blood, made him both wince and sigh as her name rolled off his tongue. Hawkes mouth left his and she trailed a series of hot, urgent kisses along his jawline, stopping at the flesh where his shoulder met his neck, and bit down hard. Pain coursed through him again, but it only served to excite him all the more.

Hands now clutched at his hips, and Hawke bade him more movement, urging Sebastian to crush himself against her again, to which he gladly obeyed. He relished in the searing heat between her thighs as his erection stroked the burning, swelling heart buried beneath her thin clothing. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel just how damp the material was there, and boy – did that make him harder then he'd ever been before. He'd seen her naked body already, so it didn't take much to imagine her fully exposed and writhing beneath him. Her supple pale skin, _his._ Her smooth trembling thighs, _his. _Her firm breasts, _his. _He thought he said something, but couldn't tell if it was out loud or in his head. It might have been her name, or a moan or some undecipherable babble. Whatever it was, he knew it could only describe a mere fraction of the desire that had overwhelmed him. He wanted her – Maker, how he wanted her! _All of her!_ He felt, animal. Primal. He'd lost himself in his lust, and it had never felt better.

And Hawke? She was just as aroused as he was. Her hands searching his muscular body for a firm hold. His back, his hair; finally settling on his rear so she could use her own momentum to grind his lower body against her harder and faster.

Sebastian could feel his entire being shudder, fueled with excitement. Together, their breathing became ragged and labored as they moved in unison with each other. He buried his face in the crook of Hawke's neck, his left hand trailing her slender figure and hooking around the bottom of her singlet. He pushed it up and found the mound of her breast. Just touching her there almost made him lose himself, but he managed to hold it off. Somehow. He kneaded her breast through her underclothes, the malleable flesh easily manipulated by his hand. Hawke arched her chest forward, offering herself to him. Her hand found a tight hold in his hair again, and she pulled him down, moving his head to her chest. His teeth nipped along her collarbone, the taste of her skin dancing on his senses. He nuzzled his face between the warm valley of her breasts, his tongue darting out and stroking the flesh that peeked over the top of her lacy bra while his nimble fingers pinched and rolled her erect nipple through the material.

A deep moan sounded in his ear as Hawke reached her orgasm first. The call of his name on her lips urged him to drive harder to join her in her release. She clawed his back, her body racked with intense quaking. Her thighs squeezed against his sides as she rode her climax. Sebastian stifled her moans with his mouth, plunging his tongue deep into her, searching out her own so he could wrap himself around it, just as the first signs of his own orgasm came upon him.

It had been so long, he almost didn't recognize the stirring at first. The heightened sense of pleasure coursing through him felt like a sun exploding as it burst forth. The feeling of fire and starlight snaked through him, setting every part of him tingling and moaning. He twitched with every buck he made, his seed soaking the inside of his pants into a sticky, frigid mess.

Twining his hands through Hawke's hair, he pushed himself closer to her until the last throb of ecstasy extinguished, and they were both left in a gasping, yet languid, pile of sweaty limbs and sodden clothing. Their mouths parted and he took in much needed oxygen. Hawke too, was fighting for breath.

Then as their combined lust started to subside, and Sebastian's mind – although satiated – cleared and became his own again, a crumbling sense of guilt immediately descended on him. He rolled lazily off Hawke and laid beside her, staring up at the cloudy night sky.

His mind raced. _What have I done? Maker! What have I done!_ He felt.. dirty. Inside, and out. He'd allowed his lust to control him, and taken advantage of a woman. And not just any woman! Hawke! Marian Hawke, who was not in the right mind herself to think clearly, and was... still in love with another man! He wanted to disappear. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and yell that he was the worst servant of the Maker that had ever walked this earth! And yet, he wanted to laugh and sing with joy that he'd taken pleasure in a woman that he'd come to care for with his whole heart. That, he realized, made this whole situation even worse. The shame he felt was palpable. The desire he'd relished in only moments before, was now replaced with disgust and disgrace.

Sebastian screwed his eyes shut and covered his face with his forearms, hoping this was all a dream. A very bad dream that he'd wake up from any moment now and find himself sprawled out on the shacks dirty floor covered in a moth eaten blanket and Merc snoring loudly at his feet. But it was not to be so.

Beside him he heard Hawke sniff, and turning his head to her, saw the shiny trail of fresh tears on her cheeks. The sight tore his heart from his chest, and he looked away in shame. What was he to do? He couldn't take his actions back now. And he didn't want to.

Hawke moved into a seating position and lowered her singlet to cover herself again. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand and turned towards him. There was no emotion in her eyes. No emotion in her features. She was once again, the stoic champion that he knew so well.

"I... I hate you Sebastian." She said monotonously.

He watched as she walked away, back towards the shack, and closed the door behind her. Climbing to his feet, Sebastian made his way towards the river needing to cleanse himself of not only his soused clothing, but his dirtied thoughts too. He could only hope, that come the morning, she was still here when he woke up.


	8. Requited

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke / Sebastian

* * *

_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver.

**Continuing their journey, Hawke and Sebastian head to Cumberland. And they're not alone.**

**Comments and reviews greatly appriciated :D  
**

* * *

**Requited**

Hawke rode in silence.

Her horse kept a consistent canter beneath her as they followed the path back towards the Imperial Highway Bridge. The cool breeze carried the scent of imminent rain that she guessed would be on them in a matter of hours. Behind her, Rin shared the meager space her saddle had to offer. The young girls arms clung securely around Hawke's waist as she nuzzled against her back, dozing in and out of sleep.

Hawke remembered that awkward morning, three days ago now, as she watched the back of the exiled prince on his chocolate colored mare. She had only been able to get a few hours sleep that night as she replayed the events in her head. The memory of Sebastian's lips on hers. The feel of his hands, his warm breath on her face and tongue on her skin. Try as she might, Hawke couldn't shake the thoughts from her mind. Well, she couldn't then. Now however, she had no choice.

Hawke was sure of two things in her life. One, was that she looked divine in an evening dress. Not that she had much reason to wear one. In fact, she'd only been lucky enough to wear such an outfit once, at the party heralding their triumphant return from the Deeproads. The material had been made from a soft, tawny leather that hugged her body like a second skin. It's low cut, strapless bodice and hem that barely reached mid-thigh didn't leave anything to the imagination either. It was on loan from Isabela after all. It was highly inappropriate for a night out in The Hanged Man of course, but even she needed to feel sexy sometimes. Especially since all she wore was stiff, uncomfortable armor.

The second and most important thing was, she always trusted her instincts. It had served her well over the years and was deeply ingrained in her. This was the reason why she was still here, and not on her way to Cumberland alone. She wanted to be, _Maker – how she wanted to be_, but there was a strange feeling inside of her that just wouldn't let her leave. She felt... something... that she couldn't quite explain, and it had only gotten worse in the last day or so. There was a shadow, or an entity she felt constantly watching her. Sometimes, in her peripheral vision, she could swear she saw someone, or something. But every time she turned her head, the figure would disappear. Whatever it was, it made her incredibly uncomfortable and put her on edge. It didn't feel hostile however, but all the same, she didn't like it. And not wanting to bother her companion with her paranoia, she kept the feeling to herself for now. So, it was against her better judgment that she decided to stay with Sebastian, and continue to travel with him and Rin. After a brief stop in Tantervale to restock their supplies, buy much needed clothing for Rin and a new set of armor for herself, they'd turned back east and set their sights on Cumberland. Sebastian was eager to find Rin's aunt, Leda; and Hawke was more then worried about Isabela. She'd been apart from her pirate companion for a little over a week now and was afraid the rivianian was getting herself into trouble. Which was more then likely.

Hawke felt the faint stirrings of hunger come upon her, and with the coming darkness and impending rain, thought they should find a place to camp for the night and sate their appetites. As they rode, her mind turned briefly to the child wrapped around her. She could hear Rin's soft breathing at her side. The young girl had taken quite a liking to her, which Hawke returned in kind. Rin reminded her of Bethany when she was a child. They both had big, innocent brown eyes and the sweetest smiles, despite all the hardships they'd faced. Hawke felt a motherly connection to her, just as she had for Bethany, and the need to protect her was strong. She was an apostate after all, albeit a young one. Hawke had a soft spot for apostates.

While still lost in her mind, Sebastian turned to her. "The bridge is ahead," he said, pointing out it out on the horizon. "We should cross and set up camp on the other side."

Startled by the sudden statement after such a long silence, Hawke stammered her reply. "Uh... yeah. Sure."

He fixed her with a gaze that sent a shiver up her back, and pulled up his mare to fall in beside her. "Is she asleep again?" he asked. Hawke nodded and turned slightly in her saddle, shaking Rin softly to rouse her. The poor girl stirred and opened her eyes just a crack, only to rub them warily with the back of her hand and snuggle into Hawke again so she could resume her slumber. The sight brought a smile to Hawke's lips, and turning to Sebastian found he was smiling too. She felt her insides squirm. _Maker, he had a beautiful smile._

As they crossed the bridge, she studied him briefly. Since... that night... Hawke had gone over and over in her mind what she had said to him. She'd told him she hated him, and at the time she really did mean it. She hated how he made her feel, because she had liked it. She hated that she'd lost herself in his arms and in his kiss, because he tasted and felt just as she thought he would. But mostly, she hated that as much as she tried to hold onto it, the memory of Anders faded, if only for a moment. That in itself caused her immense grief. But watching Sebastian stew in his own guilt made her feel worse. She knew she'd have to apologize eventually.

Reaching the other side of the bridge, Sebastian lead them into a nearby clearing. "We'll stop here for the night," he said, climbing down from his horse. "I'll get a fire started if you want to set up the shelter. We should probably wake Rin too and get her something to eat."

Hawke agreed and turned to wake Rin again. Sebastian came to her side and reached up, helping the sleepy child down from her stallion and set her on the ground. She mumbled something about being hungry then tottered off to find Merc who was snuffling around the trees and entertaining himself. After watching her go, Hawke slung her leg around to dismount, surprised to find Sebastian still beside her, extending a hand to help her down. Hesitant at first, she accepted his aid. Her fingers curled around his calloused hand, and a shot of warmth went through her. As she landed, he steadied her and smiled again. He took the reins of her horse and led both the stallion and Pudding towards the river where they could crop the green grass and slake their thirst.

"You really should give him a name, Hawke," Sebastian said as he unsaddled the mounts and brushed away the girth marks with his hand. "We can't keep calling him 'the horse', you know."

Hawke smiled faintly, thankful for his attempt to keep their strained silences from being too uncomfortable. Pulling out the various poles and stakes, she laid out the parts of the tent ready to assemble. "I don't know, I haven't really thought about it."

"You haven't? He's a beautiful horse, he needs an equally beautiful and strong name." Sebastian ran his fingers through the stallions pitch black mane, his words petering out into a mumble. It was a few minutes before he spoke again. "Things have become... difficult... between us, haven't they?"

Hawke felt her stomach flip as her hand tightened around one of the tent pegs. She tried to ignore him, instead focusing all of her attention on affixing the ground sheet like it was the most important task in the world. She felt Sebastian's eyes burning a hole in her back nevertheless.

"How long are we going to act like the other doesn't exist? I'm sick and tired of constantly walking on egg shells, worried I'm going to say something that will get your back up. I'd rather have you at my throat then dealing with these insufferable silences."

Hawke shrugged, "I'm not acting like you don't exist."

He studied her for a moment, then said, "You know what I mean." He ran his hand through his hair, brushing aside the few stands of licks that had come loose around his ears. Something in his voice sounded so wounded and alone, that Hawke found her heart in her throat. She tried fervently to swallow it down. "I don't like this Marian. I don't like it at all."

"Can we not do this right now?" Hawke said in what she hoped was a commanding voice, "I don't want Rin-"

Before she could finish her thought, Sebastian was at her side. "I think Rin already knows that something is up. She might be young, but she's not stupid. She's already asked me why we're not talking to each other. It's childish really, do you not think so?"

"Sebastian, please. I'd rather not."

He shook his head. "It's amazing that you seem to be the one dictating the situation here, when I have every right to want to talk about this. I'm just trying to find an impasse here where we get past this situation and move forward. You might regret what happened, but I do not."

To that, Hawke had to laugh. "I'm not dictating anything, and you know it. I don't know what you're expecting me to say. Do I regret it? Yes Sebastian, I do."

"When you can look me in the eye and say that, I'll be more inclined to believe you."

Letting out a deep and frustrated sigh, Hawke stood and turned toward him with every intention on telling him so. It was a bad idea. As soon as she met his sapphire eyes, the boldness she held fizzled and disappeared. Sebastian was looking at her, pain etched on his face.

Silence hung in the air between them again, as thick and uncomfortable as ever. Hawke wished she was elsewhere. She didn't know how long she could stand these moments anymore. Every time she felt like she had a hold on her emotions, it only took one look at the man before her to make her defenses crumble like they were nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sebastian spoke. "So, are you going to say anything?" he asked.

Slowly, Hawke shook her head. "Look Sebastian, I can't do this right now." She averted her eyes and focused on the ground between them. "I don't know what to say. I'm not, proud of what happened. But it happened nonetheless. Can we just forget about it, and move on?"

Sebastian dared to reach out to her, cupping her face and brought her gaze back to his to offer her a small smile. "I cannot forget Marian because I haven't felt like this for many many years. In fact, I never thought I'd ever feel this way, considering the choice I'd made to devote my body and soul to Andraste and The Maker. I'll have to answer for my transgressions one day, there's no denying that. But I could never regret what happened, and I don't think you do either. If anything Marian, the only regret I have is that I didn't make love to you properly, like I should have. Like I wanted to." Hawke's knees almost buckled under her. This was not what she wanted to be hearing. _Where was all of this coming from?_

The sound of a twig snapping surprised them, and Rin came ambling back towards the campsite with Merc playfully running circles around her. Letting the space between them grow, Sebastian returned to tending the horses and Hawke resumed her task with the tent. A couple of things played on her mind then. If she was so adamant in distancing herself from the prince, then why did she long to be near him? Why did she turn to jelly no matter how hard she tried not too? She was a strong woman. She had a firm hold on her emotions, except when it came to him. It was slowly beginning to tire her out. It didn't make any sense to her.

The other concern that weighed on her mind, was that Sebastian was right about one thing. Her horse. The stallion needed a name. She'd have to take that under advisement. At least, for the time being, she could do something about one of her problems.

**o.O.o**

The marketplace in lower Cumberland was bustling. A mass of people were gathered, milling around the various stalls and brew houses that had set up in the shining mid morning sun. Isabela sat at one of the many stores drinking in the atmosphere, both figuratively and literally. Amidst the throng she'd been fortunate enough to find a stall that sold her favorite antivan brandy, and deciding she needed a break from her searching, thought it a good idea to sit, drink and watch the raucous townsfolk going about with their mundane lives.

It reminded her of Kirkwall in some ways in that it was broken up into different regions and areas. But she found herself drawn to the Drakon Bazaar, just as she had been drawn to Lowtown. The air here was heavy with the smell of street food. In some of the larger stores, suckling pigs and lambs were being roasted over hearth fires, while the smaller stores sold a wide array of fresh vegetables, nuts, berries, rye loaves and ales from various countries. Moreover, the services offered by the local brothel, aptly named The Honey Pot, drew many people, herself included. Sure, Isabela could have found what she needed in many of the other nicer or richer parts of Cumberland, but no one knew the enticement of the underground like she did.

She had arrived here late last night, tired and almost dead on her feet. Finding her way to the Inn had been a chore in itself, but with the help of one of her traveling companions, she had finally found The Sandsea. The young man she'd befriended on her very long trip south showed her the way with such an eagerness, Isabela thought it only fair to repay him in the only way she knew how. He was one of the few men that escaped the destruction of Cadfer, and headed to Cumberland in hopes of finding a job and starting again. As much as his plight had earned him her sympathy, Isabela couldn't help but think the poor man wanted more from her then she was willing to give. If he wanted to forget the horror of losing his family and home for just a few hours, she'd give him all the furious sex he wanted. She loved sex, and was very good at it after all. But if it was more then that he longed for, he was to be sorely disappointed. And as expected, that was exactly what he wanted. She'd awoken early this morning, paid her tab and left the boy while he still slept. She wouldn't be going back there again. Instead, she used some of the coin that Hawke had split with her to haggle a cozy room at The Honey Pot, and even paid an extra few silvers to the Madam to keep her quiet in case he came looking for her.

The man behind the stand offered to pour her another goblet of brandy, but thinking she should get on with the task at hand, graciously declined. Giving him a kind smile, she threw a few bits onto the counter and pushed herself away from the cool shade of the canopy and out into the heat of the day. She'd barely taken a few steps into the bazaar when she felt someone bump into her.

It was usually customary that in such an encounter, who ever was doing the bumping would turn and offer an apology of sorts, whether it was meaningful, an after thought or even if it was accusatory. Whoever it was that bumped into Isabela however, did none of those. In fact, it was done with such a force that she was sure it was a deliberate act, and not an accident at all.

Her hand went to her thigh and dug in the fold of her boot where she kept her coin purse. Sometimes, it would slip down to her knee and she'd spend forever trying to fish it out, but this time that wasn't the case. Her purse was no longer there.

"_Oh, you've got to be kidding me,_" she groaned, and whirled around on her toes, just in time to catch a quick glimpse of the person who had bumped into her. Moving hastily through the crowd, a small form in a dusty, dark blue cloak bobbed and weaved, trying to put distance between them. _"Get back here!"_ she shouted, and moved instantly in pursuit.

Isabela was fast. She prided herself on her agility. This little bastard however, was testing her in more ways then one. It was everything she could do to keep the thief in sight. He ducked and dodged like a pro, trying to lose himself between people who where going about their business and no more aware of his crime then the fact he was using them to hide amongst. She continued to yell out to the cretin, even going so far as shouting to passersby to stop him, but no one made any move to obstruct the thief. Instead, they either looked around in confusion, unaware they were being asked for aide, or they just shook their heads. She even heard someone say under their breath something to effect of 'welcome to the bazaar' as she sped past them.

The thief led Isabela through a tight alleyway, jumping the numerous boxes and crates that lined it and occasionally kicked one over to impede her advantage. She leapt over one of the barrels and it rolled under her, causing her to stumble and fall. The thief stopped and looked back briefly to investigate the now vulgar language that came erupting from Isabela. They locked eyes for a split second and the thief grinned, showing a set of white teeth beneath his hood, before taking off again. Letting out a strangled cry, Isabela kicked aside the barrel and climbed to her feet. Any other day, she'd usually let the thief go. She knew what it was like to have to steal coin or food just to survive. Living in the slums couldn't be easy. But this bastard had picked the wrong day to mess with her.

She continued to give chase, pushing herself harder to catch up with the thief. He'd darted down to the right, ducking into another alley. Isabela jumped over the crates two at a time, being much more aware of her surroundings, until she was finally within reach of him. Her hand flew out and caught him around the collar of his cape. The thief, while still in motion, tried to untie his bindings and free himself from it so he could keep going. His small fingers fumbled with the knots, and while he tried desperately to get free, Isabela had a chance to take a firm hold of his shoulder and slam into him, knocking them both to the ground.

She struggled furiously with the thief, who was trying to squirm free from her grasp. He was so small and slippery, it was like trying to wrestle a nug. Isabela shoved her arms under the thief's armpits and dragged him to his feet, clamping down hard across his chest. As she did so, the thief's cowl slipped from his head, and she was surprised to find it wasn't a boy at all. It was a girl, and an elf at that. Startled at the realization, she relaxed her guard for half a second. That was all that was needed for the thief to drive her foot into Isabela's shin and bite down hard on her forearm. It knocked Isabela back, and she hit the wall behind her, allowing the elf to wriggle free and make her escape.

Furious and in pain, Isabela drew one of her daggers. All she needed was a precise throw, and she could pin the little elf down. Or, she could just put it through her leg and be done with the bitch. She brought her arm back, calculating the distance and momentum she'd need, when out of the blue, the thief flew backwards and was being pressed up against the alley wall by two arrows that were stuck firmly in the fabric of her cloak. Raising an eyebrow, Isabela moved forward to examine just what had happened.

"Well,_ this_ feels all too familiar. Why is it that I always seem to be in the right place at the right time?" Isabela could feel the corners of her lips curl into a smile before the dwarf stepped out of the shadow, twirling a single arrow around his stubby fingers. "You know, I did the same thing for Hawke years ago. I almost feel like I should charge for my heroic services these days."

"What, and force a comely damsel in distress to pay for your aid? How chivalrous of you." She stood before the dwarf and planted her hands on her hips. "I've been looking for you Varric. Where have you been hiding?"

He gave the pirate and sly grin and saluted her with the tip of his arrow, "It's good to see you too Isabela. It's been a while. Keeping out of trouble I hope."

"Of course. It's just that trouble seems to find me all too easily." She motioned to the thief who was now struggling against the arrows that held her. "Hand it over sweet heart," she said, her hand outstretched.

The elf turned away and thrust her chin defiantly in the air. "Give what back?" Her hair, now visible because her hood had been pulled back, was a rich auburn and she sported gray eyes as stormy as rain clouds. Isabela found it hard to believe this girl was the criminal she assumed she was. Even her skin was flawless, and showed no sign of hardship thanks to living on the streets. She also couldn't be more then twelve years of age. Still, it didn't excuse her actions.

"Don't try to bluff a bluffer, kitten. Just hand me my purse and we will be on our way." Isabela took a step towards the elf and looked her over. She saw the tell tale bulge in one of her front pockets and reached in to fish out her purse. The elf tried to kick out, but Isabela was too swift and had stepped back before her foot connected. "Now what should we do with you? Shall we call the city guard and let them deal with you?"

"No!" The elf pleaded, her rebelliousness now replaced with earnest, "I'll do anything. Just please, not the guard."

"Come on Isabela, you know as well as I do that you're not going to do that," Varric said, coming forward to release the elf from the wall. "Besides, doesn't she remind you of a certain elf we had the pleasure of befriending once?"

"Yes, but Merril was just plain naive. She wasn't a thief." Catching the dwarfs eye, she saw the twinkling of mirth there. Sighing and rolling her eyes, she felt herself give in. "Oh, very well." Scooping a finger in her coin purse, she took out three pieces of silver and pushed them into the palm of the young girl. "Take this and go. And if you think of robbing me again, I won't go so easy on you next time."

The elf hesitated, unsure if she was really being allowed to leave and with money of all things. "Wh...why? Is this some kind of trap?" she said, her gaze darting between her two captors.

"It's no trap, buttercup," Varric said, slipping his arrows back into Bianca. "Run along now, and be more careful next time. Count yourself lucky you found Isabela in a good mood." He gave the now frightened girl a soft smile, and stepped aside to let her pass. Without another word, the elf pulled her cloak tight around her and ran, disappearing into one of the many alleys.

Isabela shoved her purse back into her boot. "Thanks for the help, Varric," she said absentmindedly, then added, "and, it's good to see you too."

Varric sheathed his weapon and faced the buxom pirate. His attention went behind her, and then to the other end of the alley. "Is Hawke not with you?" he asked.

"No, she's a few days behind. It's a long story."

"Oh come now Isabela, you know how I love a good story," the dwarf goaded. "You can either tell me all about it, or I'll just make it up. And you know how I tend to exaggerate."

Isabela couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, fine," she said with a charming grin, "buy me a drink and I'll regale you with the story of our champion. But don't blame me if you fall asleep halfway through."

"If I _should_ fall asleep, then that just means you need more practice at recounting a good tale. We can't all be masters of prose, she's a tricky mistress to dominate. Lucky for you, I just happen to be a natural."

Varric led the way to end of the alley and back out into the crowded streets of the bazaar, somewhat disappointed he'd have to wait a little longer to greet Hawke again. He had a few things he wanted to say to the daring rogue, mostly about her abrupt departure from Kirkwall. If it hadn't of been for Isabela's letters every now and then, he wouldn't have even known she were still alive. All of that could wait, however. For now, Varric was content to indulge himself in Isabela's company and hear what she had to report on their illusive champion.

He also didn't feel it was necessary to bother the pirate with the fact that the thief from earlier was still tailing them.

**o.O.o**

By the time Hawke awoke, the moon had been hanging in the sky for a good few hours. She was sprawled out on a thin blanket beside the roaring fire, sweating slightly because of the heat. Across from her, Sebastian was still asleep. Rin was wrapped up in his arms, her head nuzzled comfortably against his chest. She looked at them from under her frizzled bangs, and smiled. They looked every bit the father and daughter, and it made her wonder for just a brief moment what her life had in store for her next.

Would she forever be on the move like this? Would she ever have the chance to lead a normal life again? Live in a city again? Marry? Have children of her own? Or was all of that out of her reach now? Since Kirkwall, she'd felt so alone, despite the fact the Isabela was constantly at her side. She had no family. She had no one to love, or love her back. That day had ruined everything. And it angered her terribly. So much more then any anger she held for herself. Was this to be her destiny? Had this_ always_ been her destiny? Or was this the Maker's idea of some sick and twisted joke? Did He pick her specifically out of everyone in Thedas, just to torment her? To watch her squirm and plea? If He did, then He was doing a bang up job so far. She was bitter, and as much as she hated to be, what else was there for her? After finding the amulet, what was she going to do? Where was she going to go?

Hawke's mind reeled, bombarded with countless questions that she had no answers for. And now that her head was humming so, she felt the last vestiges of sleep dissipate. Begrudgingly, she sat up and brushed the hair from her face. Merc, forever the faithful pup, was still lying beside her. She poked him in the ribs, but he didn't even stir. She wouldn't be getting any attention from him anytime soon.

Climbing to her feet, Hawke took the blanket she had been lying on in hand and crouched over Sebastian, covering both him and Rin. The young apostate stirred, her little nose scrunching up as she hugged closer to the princes chest. Hawke smiled at her, pushing aside a lone strand of hair that toppled over her forehead, and silently hoped that one day, she would have the chance to mother a girl as sweet as her.

"You're beautiful when you smile like that, Marian."

Hawke was so absorbed in Rin, that she hadn't even noticed Sebastian was sitting up now, leaning on his elbow to properly look at her. His sapphire eyes blazed under his heavy lashes as he gazed at her, a warm smile of his own playing on his lips. As he moved, Rin stirred again, and Sebastian gently pried her arms from around his waist so he could set her aside.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling back to give him room to stand now. "I didn't mean to wake you. I just thought I'd cover you up." She tugged at the blanket nonchalantly. "In case you were cold, you know."

Sebastian straightened, patting out the dust from his pants and then turned to her. "Thank you," he said. "She likes to snuggle, that one."

Hawke laughed at that. Rin certainly did love to snuggle, whether it be with him or her. "You're very good with her, you know. I was just thinking about how much you two look like... family."

Sebastian's smile faded a little, and he looked down at the sleeping girl. "Ever since Madoc found me, he and Rin _did_ become like family. It was only a few months after Lynn, her mother, was captured by the templars. They were hurting, and so was I. In many ways, we healed each other. I owe a lot to her and Madoc. They calmed me down when all I saw was... rage and sorrow."

Hawke nodded. "I'm happy for you, really. I'm glad you had the chance to know... some happiness, at least."

"I'll always be grateful for what they did for me, and I was very happy there. But, I'm also happy right here."

Before Hawke had the chance to react, Sebastian reached out and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Taken aback by his brazen attitude, Hawke hesitated at first. He was becoming much more forceful lately when it came to his feelings for her, and it was starting to wear on her. Fighting him was a hard and constant battle, one that she wasn't sure she could win. But she would keep a firm grip on the memory of Anders anyway, like a lifeline.

And then the prince would do something like this. Take her by surprise so she didn't have a chance to object, and enclose her in a hold that was so warm, and affectionate it would make her feel weak and submissive. So even though she hesitated at first, she now found herself melting willingly into his arms. His breath grazed her cheek, and Hawke felt a shiver roll down her back.

"Sebastian, no. Please. You have to stop doing this -" But her protests died as his lips came down on hers and gave her small, chaste kiss. It was simple and soft but showed no less passion then the hungry kisses they'd shared days ago. But desire was a fleeting thing, and once she remembered how dangerous it was to be near him, she tore her mouth from his.

Sebastian's arms slackened and he tilted his head to meet Hawke's gaze. "I think I love you, Marian," he said simply.

What ever emotion Hawke had been showing on her face, disintegrated. His words caught her off guard, and she didn't like that at all. She took a step back in surprise, but he seized her by her arm to stop her from getting away.

"No Marian, don't turn away from me. Did you not hear what I said?"

"Oh, I heard you alright," Hawke almost screamed, "I just don't think you have any idea what you're saying! Are you_ insane?_" She jerked from his grip and pushed him away, almost a little too forcibly. Sebastian stumbled back, only just managing to stop himself from falling.

"Is it though?" he persisted. "Is it really so wrong of me to feel this way? I cannot stop thinking about you. Whenever I'm near you, I cannot help but want to take you in my arms. Kiss your lips. Feel your touch. Do you not feel the same for me?"

"Oh Makers breath, Sebastian! Are you hearing yourself?" Hawke took another few steps back as Sebastian advanced on her. "You don't love me, you're just... infatuated. We had a moment of weakness Sebastian, that's all."

"No-"

"Yes! You're not in love with me!"

"You're wrong Marian." Sebastian found himself upon her again, and turned her in the circle of his arms so his chin rested on her shoulder. "You don't need to be afraid, I would never hurt you. I admit, there are times when you cause such a fury in me. But there are also times when I look at you and I see a future not worth living if you are not at my side."

Hawke tried to stem the tears, but felt them slide effortlessly over her cheeks regardless. "I can't give you what you want, Sebastian. I don't... feel... the same as you do. I can't."

He seemed to think for a moment before answering her. "It's Anders, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "You still love him."

"Don't ask me that because you won't like my answer," she cautioned. "I'm going to ask you this once, and once only. Let me go and stop this foolishness. We will never be together, and the sooner you realize that, the better it will be for the both of us."

"And I'll ask you the same thing I did last night." Sebastian turned her around so he could look into her teary eyes. "If you can look me in the eye and say that to my face, then I will believe you. If you can tell me that you don't feel anything for me at all, then I will forget about this."

"No, you can't make me do that -" She tried to avert her gaze, but he held a firm grip on her.

This can't be happening! He shouldn't be saying such things. Not now! Not when she was too confused to trust herself to say the right thing. Yes, she still loved Anders, but...

"Tell me you don't have feelings for me and I will never speak of this again. I know I'm not... him," he said, cupping her wet cheek in his palm, "I know you still love him. But do you think you could ever share even the smallest piece of your heart with me?

It was all Hawke could do to keep herself from falling apart. The sincerity in Sebastian's voice tore at her soul. "I can't," she cried, her breathing hitched, "I...just can't..."

"Please try, for me." He swept his thumb across her reddened face to wipe the tears from her cheek. "I only want an answer. Please."

But Hawke was shaking her head, the tears coming silently. "That's.. not what I mean. I can't tell you I don't, because I... I do."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Sebastian's hands were cradling her face, and he was kissing her. Deeply. Passionately. But to her surprise, she was kissing him back with the same amount of passion.

Then she felt _something_. And it almost terrified her.

Her eyes opened, and she drew back from Sebastian's mouth. He moved forward to recapture her, but Hawke shook her head slowly and brought a finger to her lips to shush him. He'd apparently figured something was up, because he froze in place.

"What is it?" he asked under his breath, only to receive another short and sharp shushing.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Merc move and climb to his feet steadily. He had his hackles raised, the fur on his back bristling and shaking as he swung his craggy head towards the far end of the campsite. A low growl vibrated in his throat, and he stiffened. Hawke followed his gaze to the lining of trees, when from out of the darkness she saw a large set of glowing eyes coming towards her.

In an instant, she was in motion. She scurried towards her bedroll, pulling free her daggers. Merc was growling loudly now, barking and yipping uncontrollably. Sebastian was quickly at her side with his bow in hand, when she turned towards the glowing eyes again and watched with bated breath as a large, shaggy mabari stalked forth from within the darkness.

Strangely, it did nothing but stand there, regarding the party with enormous, deep black eyes. Hawke pointed to the newcomer and ordered Merc into action, when even stranger... her faithful companion, ignored her. Barking another order to him, Merc titled his giant head at her and plopped his heavy rump on the ground, offering nothing but a panting maw.

Hawke wanted to set the mutts stubby tail on fire.

Deciding to teach her friend a very severe lesson later, she turned her attention back to the other mabari and froze. It was gone.

"What the...?" A quick scout around the camp turned up nothing. It was as if the mabari had never been there at all. "Where did it go?"

"I...I don't know." Sebastian did another sweep around the surrounding trees, cursing under his breath went he too came up empty. "It's gone. There's no trace of it anywhere."

"A stray?" She asked, hopeful.

"Maybe, but when have we ever been that lucky?"

_Truer words have ne'er been spoken_, she thought.

**o.O.o**

The mabari ambled through the woods, stopping every now and then to paw at the ground and snuffle at some seemingly enticing smell. The force of his nostrils huffing sent wisps of dirt and dust careening in the cool air, spiraling and contorting in every which way.

Above the hound, settled quite comfortably in the crook of a tree branch sat a cloaked and hooded figure, legs dangling loosely and cape flapping precariously in the slight breeze.

"Pallas? Did you find her?" It asked in a quiet voice.

Pallas jerked his dirtied muzzle upwards and came face to face with his master. The hound barked happily, showing a row of sharp, white teeth.

"Good boy," the figure cooed, jumping down from the branch easily to reward the mabari with a scratch behind his ear. "And was the Prince of Starkhaven with her?"

The hound barked happily again, which earned him another excited tickle.

"Excellent work, Pallas. Now that I have their trail and know they're together, it should make things a lot easier. But we still have much work to do." The hooded figure tugged at Pallas, urging him forward and deeper into the thick woods. "Things are going to get rather... interesting, don't you think so?"

Pallas's excited barks and yips resounded in the forest in response, joined only by the lyrically soft laughter of the stranger.

_Oh yes, things were going to get interesting indeed._


	9. A Place for Everyone

Title: Questioning Beliefs

Author: Maqeurious

Game: Dragon Age 2

Characters: F!Hawke / Sebastian

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_Months after the terrible events at Kirkwall, and the destruction of the Chantry and the Circle; Hawke disappeared. Disgusted at herself for killing Anders and on a path of destruction of her own, her only hope for death lies in the hands of her former companion, Sebastian. But Sebastian is a changed man too. With his faith in the Maker shaken and his life in the Chantry over, he is given the chance he has longed for since losing all he had._

_Hawke wants death, and it's up to him to deliver._

**The pieces start to fall into place. But just who is it that's following Hawke? And why does it even matter? But mainly, why can't Hawke be honest with herself when it comes to Sebastian?**

**Comments and reviews are greatly appriciated. Sorry for the long hiatus! Writers block is a bitch!**

* * *

**A place for everyone, and everyone in their place.**

The Honey Pot was thriving with mid afternoon patronage when Isabela and Varric arrived. The brothel was only one of many that dotted the city of Cumberland and catered to both men and women of varying race and monetary wealth. You could hire a fair, buxom wench for as little as a few bits, or indulge in the company of many if you were willing to part with several gold. It was a far cry from The Blooming Rose in Kirkwall, and for this, Isabela was thankful. The place screamed decadence, despite it's placing in the lower realms of the city.

The residence was an enormous two story, orlesian style manor that seemed so out of sorts in the Drakon Bazaar that new comers often mistook it for a wealthy nobleman's home. It's walls were draped in the finest deep red velvet and gold fringe, with intricately carved woodwork trimmings and borders at the ceiling and floors. Muted candlelight bathed the main hall by mounted sconce's that were distributed cleverly around the room, and wrought-iron candelabra placed on each of the numerous cherry colored hardwood tables. To one side sat the bar, with a large mirrored backing that reflected the entire room making it seem even bigger then it was. It was heavily stocked with a diverse range of spirits and ales to suit every taste, much like the courtesans themselves. The centerpiece, and what really brought in the varied clientele was the luxuriant chantry-styled stage area with hanging crystal chandeliers that was used for The Honey Pots lurid burlesque shows. Upstairs the decor was the same and replicated throughout the ten rooms ready and waiting to be hired, while the ground floor followed suit with an additional six, one of which was hired indefinitely by Isabela.

The Madam was a stout woman in her fifties with waist-long sliver braided hair, studded with tiny gems and an elaborate comb pinned tightly with a variety of feathers and pearls. Wrapped securely within her plentiful weaves was her namesake, a large, single, pitch black feather that earned her the title – Ravenna – by her courtesans. Isabela had taken a liking to the orlesian woman straight away, despite her lingering eye and clever tongue. She had a sharp business sense, which was only natural for her line of work, and although Isabela had haggled a good deal for the room she now acquired, she couldn't help but think the madam had taken her for a ride without her even knowing it. When she looked into the older woman's strong, violet eyes, she sensed a story or two there, and decided that before she left Cumberland, she'd sit Ravenna down and extract as many sordid ones as she could.

Varric took a long pull of his ale, the frothy goodness making a ring around his mouth. A laugh hitched in his throat as he drank, spluttering the liquid so much so that it almost shot forth from his nose. Swallowing down the sweetness, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and eyed Isabela who sat opposite him.

"You left them? Together?" He asked, wondering if he'd heard right. The last he remembered, Hawke and Sebastian were so far at odds with each other, them being together seemed almost unthinkable. He still heard the argument they'd gotten into the day the chantry had been destroyed and Sebastian had demanded the death of the blonde mage, in his head. The anger in the chantry-boy had been written all over his face. He was sure if Hawke didn't go through with his demands, then the prince-in-waiting would do it himself. And then there was his insane odyssey to find the champion after she'd disappeared, and bring about his own justice. Varric could never quite understand his reasoning for it and tried on various occasions to talk him out of it. But, like Hawke, he was stubborn.

"I had no choice," Isabela replied, sipping at her third goblet of rich red wine. "Besides, it's my hope that some time together will heal their differences."

Varric shook his head, "And have you thought that maybe your plan would work too well, and the two of them would – I dunno – get closer then you thought?"

Isabela laughed, choking on her own drink this time, "Perhaps, but I doubt it. I just want Hawke to soften up a bit. These last eight months I've seen her at her worse. She was a mess, Varric. I've never seen her so low, not when her sister was taken by the wardens, or even when her mother died. She was like a different person."

Varric nodded, remembering the letters he would receive every now and then from the pirate detailing where they were and how Hawke was faring. Even though she'd left them all abruptly, he still cared for his fellow rogue and wanted nothing more then to see her again. Isabela's letters were grim at times, explaining how Hawke would drown her sorrows in alcohol and sex, and was always – always looking for the next fight. When she'd pass out, it would be Isabela who carried her to a bed. When she'd get hurt, Isabela would be there to heal her. He often wondered if Hawke knew how much she owed to Isabela. For someone who was intent on not being tied down to one person let alone one spot, the pirate was certainly doing that now.

Of course, Varric knew the reasons behind that. Within their motley crew of companions over the years, he and Isabela had an unspoken connection. He could read Isabela, as much as she hated that. He knew how she really felt about Hawke. He knew the real reason why she disappeared with the champion. He just hoped she knew what she was getting into. They'd danced around the subject years ago, but since Hawke was devoted to Anders, it was a non-topic. Isabela had said she was happy for them. Varric knew better.

Lost in his musings, he didn't notice that Isabela was staring at him, her big brown eyes awash with memories of her own and a small smile playing on her lips. "What's going on in that head of yours dwarf? I can see you're dying to say something."

He laughed, a stubby finger trailing a drip of condensation on his mug. "It's nothing, just a fools wondering. But I have a strange feeling you didn't come all the way to Cumberland just to get into my head. Are you two still on this hunt for the amulet then? Have you had a break through about it's whereabouts?"

"Got it in one," Isabela said. "I found out that a man named Tobias brought the amulet and is currently on his way to Redcliffe. Have you heard of him by chance?"

"I think I'm going to need more to go on then just a first name," Varric replied incredulously. "That aside, I can't believe you're still searching for it. What's so important about this amulet anyway? Of all the things you've shared with me about Hawke, this is still a mystery to me. Is it... magical? Dangerous?"

Isabela hesitated to speak. She'd promised Hawke months ago that she wouldn't reveal what the significance of the amulet was. She'd wanted to tell Sebastian the last time she saw him, only in hopes that he would understand why the champion was how she was. No, the amulet wasn't magical, and as far as she knew it wasn't dangerous either. Not unless the wrong person saw it around the neck of someone they shouldn't. It was a symbol. It was personal. It was... a gift. It was also her bargaining chip. The amulet symbolized the promise between her and Hawke, that she wouldn't give up on life until she held it in the palm of her hand again and returned it to where it belonged.

It was also something that ate at Isabela from the inside out. She felt – trapped – in her promise, because no matter how she looked at it, whether she succeeded or not, Hawke was going to leave her anyway. She needed to talk to someone about this, and Varric was nothing if not discreet. If there was anyone she could trust, no – unload on – it was him. What did she have to lose?

Absentmindedly, her fingers lightly passed over the rivaini talisman tied securely to her corset trussing as her mind drifted back to the day Hawke had given it to her. She'd joked with the champion about the fertility charm at that time, while inside; her heart was throbbing and coming into it's own realization of just how much she actually cared for the blonde rogue.

"The amulet belonged to Anders," Isabela said after a few moments. "It was a gift given to him by Hawke years ago. She said it symbolized his struggle in fighting for and freeing the Kirkwall mages, or something like that. I don't know really, but it was important to the both of them."

"OK, but if it was so important, how did it get in the hands of this Tobias character? Wasn't blondie wearing it?"

"He was," she continued after quaffing the rest of her wine. "It's pretty easy to explain really. When Hawke went back to claim his body, he'd already been done over by scavengers. They'd taken his staff, coin, rings.. anything they could carry and sell. He was lucky they didn't strip the very clothes from him. Hawke was pissed, and I mean really, _really_ pissed. She didn't so much care about the other stuff, but then she saw the amulet was gone..." Isabela shook her head as she remembered. The fire in Hawke's eyes then had been like a raging inferno. The streets of Kirkwall were rife with looters and beggars scrounging around dead bodies for anything they could salvage. It didn't take long for Hawke to find someone that knew who stole from her lover. It was amazing how quickly people would talk and rat each other out when they were threatened or beaten to within an inch from death. Not one of Hawke's finer moments as the champion, though at the time Isabela didn't think she really gave a damn.

"We found out who took it, but when we finally caught up with him he'd passed it on. When we found who had it after that, it turned out they'd sold it on too. Can you believe that? It's like these ingrates knew someone was looking for it, and that someone would kill to have it back. So no one would hold onto it long enough. We went from person to person. But Hawke was beginning to lose any hope of getting it back. She was already depressed and near suicidal because of Anders, and in the end she just stopped caring about it."

"So what changed then?" Varric asked, engrossed in her tale. There were elements in here that he could use for his own musings. "Why are you still looking for it?"

Isabela laughed and cast her eyes downwards. "Well, I begged her."

"You... begged her? For what? And why?"

"You have to understand, she was losing her grip on reality Varric. She was like a husk. Then, I stupidly let it slip to her about Sebastian being in that small village and I saw life come back into her eyes. But it wasn't what I thought. She wanted to see him, but only so he could take his revenge on her. It was her way out, or so she said. I had to do something."

"You used guilt." It wasn't so much a question, but a fact. Varric raised a thick eyebrow at the pirate as he rested his chin on the tips of his fingers. "That's unlike you."

"Is it? I was desperate. After everything we'd been through, she was just going to lie down and let him kill her! I couldn't let that happen." She shuffled awkwardly in her seat as the dwarfs eyes questioned her. "I begged her to stay her hand until I found the amulet, that it was something I owed her after all the shit I'd caused over the years. She refused, but I managed to talk her around after a few days. She promised that until the amulet was back in her hands, she wouldn't do anything stupid."

"But she contacted Sebastian anyway? Why?"

Isabela shook her head, "I'm not sure myself. She promised me she wouldn't after all. But, you should have seen them when they were together Varric. It was... strange. They both looked like they wanted to murder each other, but there was also something... different. I hadn't seen Hawke so – animated – in such a long time. It was like something in her came alive when she was eye to eye with him."

"Is that so? And you still don't think something is going to happen between the two of them? Didn't you say that Sebastian no longer devotes himself to the chantry? What if he does try something with her? You'd have missed your chance once again."

"Yeah well, such is life. I've already come to terms with _THAT_ little problem. Hawke just hasn't realized the finer things that come with the allure of another woman." She smiled then, her big brown eyes glazing over with a subdued demeanor. "Still, it doesn't mean I can't admire from afar and make sure she's happy."

Varric shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. "Bleedin' ancestors Isabela, you've... changed."

"And if you tell anyone," she said with a dry sense of mirth and a wide toothy grin, "I'll deny it then kill you."

**o.O.o**

Alistair closed the large wooden door quietly behind him, making sure not to rouse the attention of anyone who happened to be in the vicinity. He stood on the steps of the Citadels Keep, the seat of Cumberland's aristocracy, frustration swarming within him like an angry nest of wasps. He knew gaining an audience with the Duke was going to be a chore, but he didn't think it was going to be this difficult. For hours he'd been juggled between the Duke's vassals and attendants, and couldn't help but think he was being given the run around. For the love of the Maker, he was a King!

A shout from below brought Alistair out of his reverie. Shaking his head, he descended the steps heavily, weary from the days events. He missed Ferelden terribly. It was going on a year since he'd felt Ferelden soil beneath his feet, and even longer since the last time he was in Denerim and his own bed. If he'd been smart enough, he would have sent Teagan and Aveline to this enormous city on their own while he stayed behind in Starkhaven. At least the Prince there would see and acknowledge him. Though, it didn't help at all that the current ruler of Starkhaven was a bit... simple. He had to find this man, Sebastian Vael. And soon.

"Your Highness? Are you alright?" Aveline climbed a few steps to meet him, a look of concern on her face. "If I may be so bold, you look terrible."

Alistair raised his head and smiled at his companion and newly appointed member of his personal guard. She looked as tired as he felt. Her warplate was encrusted with dirt and dried blood, the remains of a small skirmish with some bandits outside of Val Chevin. The former Guard Captain had joined him six months ago, offering her services and pledging her loyalty to Ferelden and its King. But behind her stoic facade, Alistair could see the pain and frustration leaving Kirkwall had inflicted on her. Not to mention leaving her husband behind to step into her shoes and deal with the mess that was left.

Their long trek from Val Royeaux had not only been exhausting, but less then fortunate. They'd come away from the luxuriant city with nothing more then a flippant remark from the Empress. As much as it annoyed the ex-warden, at least it was something. At least it wasn't a 'no'.

"I'm fine Aveline. Frustrated, tired and starving, but otherwise just peachy." He forced a smile, making his eyes crinkle delicately at the corners. He was really beginning to feel his age lately, and blight take him if that wasn't the cherry on top of his huge, depressing cake.

"I take it the Duke wouldn't see you?" Teagan interjected, falling into step beside Aveline. "I told you we should have made a formal request to see him. Arriving in the dead of night and demanding an audience never really makes a good first impression. You know how these marchers are."

"Is that sarcasm Teagan? I can't tell these days." Alistair scoffed, raking a tired hand through his dusty blonde hair. "I suppose busting in there and bellowing that I'm the King of Ferelden wouldn't go down well either?"

Aveline laughed despite herself and shook her head. "Not if you want a riot on your hands, Your Highness."

"Yes well, something tells me the Duke wouldn't care if I pranced around his feet like a fairy in a pair of the Divines holy underpants, singing the chant at the top of my lungs . The only thing he's worried about right now is his cities hosting of the Grand Tourney in a months time."

"However amusing that image may be Alistair," Teagan said, hiding a grin, "let's focus on what's important. What the Duke should be worried about are the magisters out there using his city to recruit scared mages who see them as the best of a bad situation. The templars are everywhere and hunting them mercilessly. It's no wonder they're taking refuge with them. It's only a matter of time before the magisters wind up with an army of blood mages."

The thought alone made Alistair cringe. He'd seen first hand how blood magic could manipulate a mage, even one with good intentions. He also knew how hard it was for a mage to stop using the taboo art. But those were memories for another time.

"What am I doing?" Alistair asked his uncle restlessly, "I mean, really. I've left my own kingdom to city hop the marches, and what have we really accomplished? Starkhaven's current Prince is a blithering idiot. Nevarra's King is too busy trying to quell the uprising over the Blasted Hills. Kirkwall is still trying to put itself back together - without a Viscount. And now this? No one seems to be taking me seriously at all. You'd think after 10 years on the throne I could command some respect out here. Is that too much to ask?"

"Moaning doesn't become you Alistair," Teagan scolded, "besides, we're not here to deal with the mage and templar crisis. Our mission is bigger then that. If we can't unite the kingdoms before this... darkness... comes to Thedas-"

"I know, I hear you." Alistair turned his head in order to catch Teagan's eye. His uncles face was weathered and tired, but usually showed a hint of humor that the King occasionally found solace in. Tonight however, he saw nothing but an exhausted, middle-aged man. Since when did things become so hard? It only felt like days ago he was attending his own court and dealing with his own people. Now, he literally felt the whole world on his shoulders.

"It's funny you know," he said quietly, more to himself then to his companions, "any other time I'd be chomping at the bit wanting to enter the Tourney this year. Apparently it's supposed to be the best yet."

The scowl on Teagan's face could have set Alistair's armor ablaze. "Oh yes Your Majesty, I imagine Queen Anora would love to see you battle it out with Thedas's most distinguished warriors. She already has a complex about losing another King, let's not give her any other reason to bring up her petition for you to abdicate your throne."

"There is no love lost between us uncle, you know that. Our marriage is of convenience, nothing more. If I'd had it my way -"

"Stop right there Alistair," Teagan interrupted. "I know this isn't how you wanted things to turn out, but it's been 10 years since the blight, and almost 2 years since you last saw..." He caught himself mid sentence, not wanting to dig up that old wound if it wasn't necessary. "There's only so much your reign can take before your citizens start to lose faith in you. If we had an heir, however..."

Alistair rolled his eyes and took a hesitant step towards his uncle. "I'm not having this discussion with you again Teagan. I don't love her. She will only ever be my brothers wife in my eyes. I cannot sire a child with Anora. It wouldn't be fair on her or the babe. Not while my heart lies somewhere else."

"And yet there is already a bastard child with your name on it Alistair, sired out of nothing but the fear of death. Don't be such a hypocrite."

Alistair's eyes widened as his uncles words sunk in. Not a day had gone by that he didn't think about Morrigan, their one sordid night and the child that was the result of it. The deed might have saved his life, and the life of his fellow warden, but he couldn't deny the guilt he'd felt since. He would also never get the sound of weeping out of his head. "After all of these years you'd think I'd become used to your barbs and stings. Funnily enough, they still hurt as much now as they did back then."

Teagan watched as Alistair began to pace the citadel steps in front of him, a numbness creeping over his body. A brief coil of anger took a hold of him then, as it did many times in the last few years whenever the subject of the warden or an heir to Ferelden came up. But like always, the anger was quickly replaced by guilt and the understanding that none of this was easy for his nephew, especially when he was trapped in a loveless marriage. It was moments like these he was both thankful and regretful he wasn't married.

"I'm... sorry Your Majesty," he said, his voice small and pleading, "please forgive me. I speak out of turn."

"Don't be daft uncle. If you of all people can't kick my ass when I need it, I don't know who can." With a distinct edge of weariness, Alistair raked his fingers through his hair again. "You know your words are counsel to me. I'd be pretty lost without you constantly at my side." He smiled then, and Teagan felt the numbness in him dissipate as he returned it.

Aveline was shuffling uneasily beside the two, unsure of what to do with herself. She hadn't been with them long enough to know about the intricate details of their argument, but rumors were rife everywhere and it didn't take a genius to figure it out. The affair between Alistair and his fellow warden wasn't as secret as the court, or the Queen – would have liked it.

"So what now?" she asked them. "If the Duke won't see you, what do you intend to do?"

"I'll keep trying to get in to see him, but maybe we should also consider our backup plan. Do we even know where this Sebastian Vael is?"

"I'm not sure myself," she said, her mind wondering, "but I can find out. I know someone in town who might be able to tell me where he is."

Teagan thought about it for a moment then nodded approvingly. "All right then, let's retire for the night and try again in the morning. Maybe this time we'll go about it more delicately."

Alistair chuckled softly, pretending not to hear his uncles jibe and instead thought of the next hard mattress and pillow that would cradle him for the rest of the night.

Maker, he missed Ferelden.

**o.O.o**

**2 nights later**

The high walls of the city towered above Hawke as her stallion pounded the last few feet towards the gateway into Cumberland's inner bailey. It was well past midnight when they finally reached their destination after a week on the road, and Hawke found it difficult to contain her relief. But once the outline of the coastal city shimmered on the horizon against the setting sun, they'd kicked their mounts into high gear, desperate for a decent nights sleep in a proper bed.

The quarter was steeped in darkness with only a few metal lanterns hooked on high poles to illuminate the near empty roads. The heavy clicking of their horses hooves on the chipped cobblestones were the only sounds that accompanied them as they navigated the twisting streets and alleys in their search for the nearest Inn. The last time Hawke had been in the city was months ago, and she'd spent most of that time drunk and in the bed of some faceless soldier who was looking for a night of anonymity just as much as she was.

Crossing a wide courtyard, she pulled the stallion to a halt and turned to Sebastian who fell in beside her. "I hope you know where we're going? I'm completely lost now." She looked at the darkened facades of the building in front of her and winced. "Are you sure there's an Inn around here?"

"I'm quite certain," he replied, squinting his eyes to look down one side of the street, then the other. "We're in the northern quarter right now. This part of the city is a mixture of high-end boutiques and private residences. If we take the path to the right we'll head straight into the Citadel. It's probably best to avoid that road."

Hawke couldn't agree more. "So, we go left? What's that way?"

Sebastian wondered for a moment as he scratched at the shadow of a beard on his chin. "Well, left is the Midtown Plaza and beyond that is the Drakon Bazaar. If we want to head to the docks, that's the way to go. The Oak is in Midtown, we should head there."

"The Oak?"

"The Rose 'n Oak Lodge. It's late, but I know the proprietor. And who knows, maybe Isabella is staying there."

Hawke smothered a yawn with the back of her hand and laughed. "I doubt it. You know just as well as I do she'll be at the whorehouse," then added with a half grin, "she likes the atmosphere."

Sebastian returned her smile. "I suppose you're right. We could find her if you want, but I think we should leave it for the morning. I want to get Rin properly settled for the night."

Hawke shook her head. Her and Isabella had an uncanny knack of finding each other, so for the time being she could let it go. They were finally in the same town. That would do for now. Rin on the other hand was a child who needed a warm bed instead of a hard, leather saddle. If she woke early enough, she could find Isabella and be on a boat to Ferelden by the afternoon.

She glanced over her shoulder. The road into Midtown was dark, but their choice was clear. "It's fine," she said. "I could do with a bed too. That, and the stiff drink you're going to buy me."

oooOOooo

The slowing clatter of hooves on the cobblestones told Hawke they'd arrived. The entire front of the lodge was illuminated with torches and threaded with tangled vines. High above the door swung a wooden sign on a rusted chain that showed the scorched emblem of an oak tree and a rose. Hawke scoffed to herself at how gaudy it looked.

"Come on." Sebastian lowered himself and led Pudding to the railing to secure her halter. Hawke followed behind, tying her stallion and scooped a dozing Rin into her arms. Inside, the smell of roasted meat and firewood hit them, awakening the desire for a proper meal. Hawke inhaled deeply, her mouth was already starting to water.

"Sebastian? Sebastian dah-ling! Is that you?"

They turned towards the front desk and there she was. Hawke's eyebrow raised as she came eye to eye with the proprietor. She was gorgeous. Her curly blonde hair hung in tight ringlets around her face and cascaded down the length of her back. She was definitely of orlesian decent, evident by her syrupy-brown colored eyes, upturned dainty nose and thick accent. She shuffled from behind the desk and flung herself into Sebastian's arms, her multicolored dress barely touched the floor.

"It's good to see you again Tanith." Sebastian said, returning her embrace. "I'm sorry to call on you so late."

"Oh no no, not at all." She pushed herself away to get a better look as her eyes drunk him in. Hawke frowned as Tanith bit her lower lip - almost seductively. "Still as... beautiful as ever Sebastian. I swear, I'll never forgive the Maker for taking you off the market," she sighed. "Such a shame.."

Sebastian laughed, only slightly uncomfortable by the innkeepers sudden closeness. He pulled back even further and took Tanith's hands in his. "I'm dirt ridden, sweaty and I haven't bathed in days. I'm no more beautiful then the rear end of my horse. You, on the other hand are still a vision to behold."

A strained silence fell between the two of them as they stared at each other, making Hawke feel oddly out of place. She couldn't take her eyes of Tanith though. There was something about the way she looked at him that just didn't sit well with her. Sebastian had mentioned they were old friends, making Hawke wonder from when. His time in the chantry? When he lived in Starkhaven? Or maybe, from before he took his vows? The thought made the hair stand on the back of Hawke's neck.

Smiling, Tanith leaned in and gave Sebastian a quick peck on the cheek. "Flattery will get you everywhere my dear. What can I do for -" The rest of her sentence hung on her lips as she spied Hawke standing by the front door. Her smile fell too, which the champion took as a personal victory, however small it may have been.

Sebastian noticed the sudden change in Tanith and turned to Hawke, motioning for her to come forward. "I'm sorry Tanith, let me introduce you. This is Marian and Rin." he said curtly, pushing a lock of hair behind the child's ear. Tanith's face went pallid, making Hawke smile and laugh inside.

"Pleasure to meet you," Hawke said, extending her hand. Tanith reciprocated, her eyes darting between her and Sebastian.

"The...pleasure... is all mine, I'm sure." She stared at Hawke a moment longer, studying her closely. Then as quick as her demeanor changed, she'd pulled herself back together and was the picture of perfection once again. "What can I do for you, my dear?" She asked Sebastian, seemingly forgetting all about Hawke and the child in her arms.

"We need a room for the night. If it's not too much trouble."

"Just the.. one room?" She asked.

Sebastian opened his mouth to answer, but realized he didn't quite no how to. Hawke smiled inwardly again. At least, she hoped it was inwardly. Something in her suddenly felt mischievous.

"Yes please," she said, trying to hide the smugness – more or less. "One room is fine."

Tanith nodded her head. "Well, we have plenty of rooms available so it won't be a problem. I can give you a room with two beds if you'd like. For the child, you know."

"That would be great," Hawke purred, "it can get pretty squished when we're all together."

Even Sebastian caught the quirk in Hawke's tone. He turned to her and furrowed his brow, asking with his eyes what she was up to. She just smiled at him. It wasn't her fault the innkeeper thought they were a family.

"Very well," Tanith said tightly, pursing her pretty lips. "I can put you in room 6. Upstairs, third door on the left." She reached behind the counter and unhooked a set of keys, twisting and turning the cluster before finding the right one. She handed the key to Sebastian and smiled. "Usually I wouldn't allow your mabari inside, but I can make a special exception. For you."

Hawke probably should have told her that Merc didn't belong to him, but decided against it. Inns these days were meticulous when it came to animals indoors, but she knew when to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she stepped past Sebastian further into the room and headed for the stairs, leaving them to their own devices. It was smaller inside then she thought it would be, but she took great interest in the bar on the opposite side of the room. She guessed beyond that was the kitchen and the source of that delicious aroma from earlier.

Sebastian cleared his throat as he came up behind her a few minutes later. "Do you mind telling me what all that was about?"

When Hawke turned to face him, she was expecting maybe a cheeky grin or rueful glance. What she got instead was a deep frown and what looked like anger in his eyes. "What?"

"That... performance back there. You now, she probably thinks we're... more then what we really are."

"Really? And what would that be exactly?"

They stared at each other then, both seemingly lost for words. Neither of them knew the answer to that particular question. They'd barely spoken about what had happened that night at their campsite. The night he'd admitted how he felt about her. He'd told her he loved her. And she... well, she didn't exactly deny him either. She allowed herself to wonder what would have happened if the interruption by the hound had never taken place; only once, and that was enough. In the days after that she tried to forget all about it. It worked most of the time.

"How do you know her anyway?" she asked, finally finding her voice. "She seemed very... friendly... towards you."

"We have history. It's not important."

"History? As in chantry life and communion history or..."

"Or what?"

"Or... I don't know!" Hawke shrugged, frustrated. "What else can you do on your knees?"

She bit her tongue then, chastising herself for blurting out such an accusation like she had any business knowing. Sebastian's gaze fell to the floor between them and he chuckled. But it wasn't a happy or amused chuckle. It sounded more derisory.

"We were close. Once. A long time ago." he said coldly.

Hawke could only nod. "I see."

Again an awkward silence fell upon them, longer and more uncomfortable then usual. He reached over and plucked Rin out of Hawke's arms without looking at her, afraid that if he did he'd say something he'd later regret.

Taking a deep breath he tried to steady his voice. "Look, I'm just going to go up and get some sleep. I know I said I'd buy you a drink, but I'm suddenly not in the mood right now." He took a few steps up the staircase before stopping. "Are...are you coming?" he asked over his shoulder.

Hawke considered it. She _was_ tired, but she also thought being shacked up with Sebastian right now was a bad idea. Besides, the bar was still calling her. "No, I'm good. I think I still need that drink."

She didn't wait for his reply but could feel his disappointment anyway. Without a backward glance she stepped around the staircase and into the small bar area, planting her backside on one of the stools at the counter. Asking for two fingers of whatever top shelf brandy was on offer, Hawke finally felt herself start to relax. It was times like these though that her mind began to drift and the old memories would take over. But lately she'd been able to quell the haunting memories. She'd even started to sleep at night without the constant fear of nightmares plaguing her. Even the dreams of Anders had stopped. But now she felt them all starting to come back, and she knew why. She was alone. When she was with Sebastian, her fears seemed to disappear.

"Guy troubles?" The bartender asked, whipping a drying cloth over her shoulder.

Hawke gave the woman a slight smile as she downed her glass and motioned for another. "That obvious, huh?"

"I tend bar honey, I see it all the time." She poured Hawke another drink, this time filling it to the brim. "Comes with the job."

Hawke sipped at her drink, the acrid tang making her eyes water. Maker, she missed the taste of real alcohol. She noticed the bartender looking at her expectantly, like she was waiting for Hawke to continue.

"It's.. complicated." she said, licking her lips. "Sebastian and I are... complicated." She snorted a laugh. _Complicated is an understatement, _she thought.

"Well, love usually is," the bartender replied with a smile. But as she smiled, Hawke noticed the woman's eyes. They were odd to say the least. One was a deep grassy green, but the other was as blue as the sky. Hawke had never seen such a strange combination. She must have been staring because the bartender winked at her and widened her smile. "That never gets old," she laughed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

The bartender just shook her head. "It's OK, it happens quite often. Like I said, it never gets old. Some peoples reactions are... stronger then others. Though I find it interesting you didn't react at all when I mentioned the 'L' word"

Hawke quirked her eyebrow. "The 'L' word? Sebastian and I?" She actually laughed out loud, though couldn't fathom why. "Like I said, it's complicated."

"Well, you either love him or you don't. It's that simple. Unless... you're in love with someone else." The bartenders piercing eyes probed her. "Do you?" she asked.

_Do I? _ What a fantastic question. And a completely hard to answer one at that. How in the Makers name was she supposed to answer that? She didn't even want to think about it. She had feelings for him, sure. She'd even told him as much. But love? No. She only loved Anders. Didn't she? Suddenly, Hawke didn't feel like drinking anymore. Actually, she didn't even feel like being anywhere near here. Draining the rest of her drink, she threw some coins on the bar and stood. She had to get out of here, even for a moment.

Without saying goodbye to her host, Hawke made for the exit and pushed the door open, welcoming the cool night air once again.

oooOOooo

The bartender watched Hawke leave in a hurry as she gathered the coins together and placed them in her apron pocket. She was smiling to herself as she thought about her. Such a pretty girl. Strong too, she could tell. But her hesitation was going to be her downfall. Eventually. If she couldn't figure out her own feelings over something as simple as a man, then in the long run, the champion wasn't going to be any use to her. Something had to change, and change quickly.

"She's gone. You can come out now." Behind her, a small figure emerged from the kitchen and came to the bartenders side. The elven girl also had her gaze fixed on the door Hawke had left through, and she sighed heavily.

"She left? What about Sebastian?"

"She'll be back, don't worry. She won't leave Sebastian and Rin alone."

"You just... let her go? I thought after what she did, you know. I thought _he_ was your friend?"

The bartender bit her lip. "He was." she said softly. Turning to the girl, she asked, "Did you get it?"

The elf rummaged through her knapsack, extracting a small piece of paper with writing on it, and handed it over. "Uh huh. What's it for anyway?"

The bartender gave the elven girl a friendly smile. "I need Hawke at her best. This is going to help with that. I need to test her. I need to see how far she's willing to go."

"You're leading her into a trap?"

"That's the plan."

"And what about Sebastian?"

"He'll follow. He'll have to if he doesn't want his little friend to die."

"That's pretty harsh!" the elf girl gasped.

"It has to be."

The bartender untied her apron and hung it on the hook beside the kitchen door, leaving the coins inside for the next person who should use it. She didn't need them after all. Hell, she didn't even work here. She passed through the bar and stopped at the front desk with the elf girl hot on her heels.

"I don't like her!" Tanith complained, "did you see how she.. how she..." Tanith was so riled, she couldn't even finish her sentence. "How did you even know they'd come here?"

"It's a gift Tanith, my dear." She gave the frustrated proprietor the small note and smiled. "Make sure she gets this OK. They're the directions to Leda's house. Don't give it to her directly though."

"I know! I know!" Tanith groaned as she snatched the note. "I've been doing this longer then you think you know."

"I don't doubt it, and you're very good at what you do Tanith. I won't forget this." She smiled at the innkeeper, drawing her in with her charm. She'd been told once that she was very good at swaying people into her corner. A trait she used more often then not. When Tanith smiled back, she knew her ability was as strong as ever.

"By the way," Tanith said after a moment, "King Alistair has been seen in town. I thought you should no."

A flicker of emotion went through the 'bartenders' multicolored eyes, but only for a second before she managed to reign it back in. _I thought I'd have more time_.

A sharp whistle escaped her lips, and before she knew it her shaggy mabari was at her side. "Thanks for the warning Tanith." she said as she made her way to the door. "Come on Pallas, we have somewhere to be." She poked her head outside and eyed up and down the street. Satisfied there was no one around, she stepped past the threshold.

"Are you coming Merrill?" she asked the elf.

Merrill nodded, pulling her cape up around her face to protect herself from the cold, and followed.


End file.
